


Why should I trust you?

by ravensilverwing



Series: Why should I trust you? [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-02-23
Updated: 2011-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-07 12:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 71,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensilverwing/pseuds/ravensilverwing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post 5x08. Nothing is simple anymore. Gabriel is helping Sam and Dean with hints on hunts and even by saving Sam's life but neither Winchester trusts what Gabriel may be up to, or each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post 5x08. Nothing is simple anymore. Gabriel is helping Sam and Dean with hints on hunts and even by saving Sam's life but neither Winchester trusts what Gabriel may be up to, or each other.

"Is this a joke?" Sam was almost laughing, breathless with an edge of bitter. "You think I'm that stupid? That after Ruby I'd just..."

His knuckles went white around the shotgun.

"Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to fall for the same trick? That you could just waltz in, save my life a few times, throw us some clues and I'd just what? Fall all over myself to trust you? Or is this just some new trick? Some sick game for your own amusement?" Smiling tight and absolutely bitter now. "What's the matter Gabriel? Apocalypse ruining your fun? Had to find a new game to play? Or did you finally realise that the end is really the end and Lucifer is going to destroy everything! All your little play things gone, no more bullies to murder."

Gabriel's eyes flashed, a spark of fury. The air was suddenly heavier, lightning crashing outside.

"Oh I'm sorry. Bring to justice." Sam's voice was snide.

"Don't even pretend they didn't deserve it." Gabriel actually looked angry, like he believed in what he was doing even as he enjoyed every twisted moment of it.

"Didn't fall very far did you." Sam mocked. "Angel of Justice."

Gabriel looked away and there was a moment where he shifted and Sam could see him thinking...

"Don't you dare leave me here." Sam's voice was dropping. "You have something to say, so say it."

Silence. Rain finding its way through the broken windows of the warehouse. Dripping down into puddles on the bare concrete floor. Fractured light skittering over the surface with every drop.

"Are you sure Sam?" Gabriel looked overly pensive, arms crossed. Leaning casually to the side, lounging on an invisible pillar. "You seem to be enjoying your lengthy monologue." Half smile curling into a smirk.

Sam's shoulders tensed.

"If you have nothing important to say take me back to Dean."

"So Dean can ram another stake through my chest? Please." Eyes rolling as his arms unfolded and he stood upright again, no longer lounging on nothing but air.

"If you remember it was me that staked you last time." Sam's eyes narrowed as Gabriel wandered closer, circling round but keeping his distance. "And I'd be happy to do it again."

"Pfft. Barely even hurts." Dismissing the idea.

"But it does hurt and I will happily..."

"Oh please." Eyes rolling at Sam to drive home just how pathetic he thought the threat was. "Your shotgun's empty and it's not like you can fetch more rounds unless I let you. And I'm not exactly going to let you if you're just going to..."

"So, what?" Sam demanded. "You're just going to keep me here?"

"No."Another eye roll as he stopped in front of Sam again. "If you'd quit your whining maybe I could get back to my point."

"Right." Sam smiled tightly. "You want to help. But you see Gabriel, I'm never going to believe you. I'm never going to trust a single word you say. Not only did you kill my brother..."

"And brought him back." Smiling broadly.

"Yes." Sam drawled, nodding slightly. "But you also want me to say yes to Lucifer."

"And I told you, I've changed my mind."

"And why would I believe you?" Sam demanded.

"What?" Grinning. "A guy can't change his mind?"

"Exactly. This is your problem Gabriel. Everything's just a game to you."

The angel's mouth dropped open, eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, I've heard it all before. What we call the Apocalypse, you call a family dinner. So what? Your family sucks so you ran away? Cas says you've been gone over a thousand years. Now you've suddenly changed your mind. You're suddenly willing to fight against your family."

Gabriel's eyes dropped.

"Give me a reason, one good reason why you'd do that?" Sam asked.

Thunder rolled overhead, then lightning.

"Do you even have a reason for saving me?" He wanted to know.

"You're Lucifer's Vessel." Hazel eyes blank but staring up at Sam again.

Sam flinched but kept his expression neutral.

"So, what? You're just keeping me safe for him to ride around in later? Is that it?" Frowning. "Just trying to keep big brother happy for when he's ruling the world?"

"And Heaven." Gabriel's voice was low but clear to Sam despite the storm.

"What?"

"Do you really think he'd just stop here? That his plan begins and ends with this? Wow and you think I'm conceited. What do you think he's going to do when he's finished with earth Sam? Sit around and admire the scenery?" Mocking disbelief.

Sam swallowed.

"So you'll help him now so..."

Thunder and lightning crashed in a blinding wave of sound and white light.

"I have no intention of..." A quick pause, eyes flicking away then back again to stare at Sam, struggling for flippant. "Of helping my 'brother.'"

Sam watched Gabriel closely, mind racing.

"You mean serve him." Sam was certain of it.

Gabriel flinched.

"You mean you have no intention of serving him. You know he's planning on taking over and you know you don't stand a chance. That you won't be able to hide from him once it's all over."

Disgust mixed with desperation washed over Gabriel's face.

"If Dean would say yes then..."

"But Dean won't say yes." Realisation was dawning. "You had a look into the future, didn't you? And Dean didn't say yes." A moment of blinding relief before he stopped to watch Gabriel's face.

Gabriel's eyes widen slightly in surprise before his face slid over into impressed.

"Nicely done Sam but you do realise what that means, don't you?" Slowly stepping forward, moving much closer.

Sam was frozen with the dawning horror of it all.

"I said yes." His voice was hollow.

Gabriel nodded.

"You said yes." Sing song voice mocking but his hazel eyes were staring right into Sam's.

Sam licked his bottom lip but refused to look away. He hadn't done anything yet, he had nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing accept drinking demon blood, killing Lilith, letting Lucifer free and starting the Apocalypse.

The rain was getting heavier, more water dripping down the walls now, more drops shattering the light across the puddles.

"What if I could stop you?" Gabriel's voice was low.

Sam's heart flipped then began to race, hands suddenly slick with sweat.

"What if I could find a way so that you never say yes to dear big brother Lucy? "

Sam swallowed hard.

"Can you?" Breathless. Voice squeezing out from his suddenly tight throat.

Gabriel blinked slow, or maybe time was getting slower. Sam didn't know. He could only hope Gabriel wasn't fucking with him. God he hoped Gabriel wasn't lying to him.

Gabriel's eyes were boring into his.

"I don't know." Honesty at last.


	2. Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel is offering to help Sam say no to Lucifer but can he be trusted?

Sam tried to catch his breath as the rain started beating against the closest window. Was Gabriel messing with him? Did he already know a way to stop him from saying yes to Lucifer and was he just holding out like...wait. Sam's fist clenched. He'd played this game before.

His fist was connecting with Gabriel's face before he could think on it further. It was vaguely satisfying despite the fact Gabriel didn't even rock back on his feet to take the blow.

"You miserable son of a bitch! Do you really think I'm going to play this sick game again?"

"What the hell is wrong with you!" Gabriel actually had the gall to look shocked.

"Like you don't know. Like you're not just dangling the perfect carrot in front of me, just like Ruby did. What, is there some manual on how to play Sam Winchester? Save my life a few times, throw out a helpful hint here and there and then when you think you've got my attention, dangle the one thing you know I want more than anything, right in front of my face!" Sam knew he was yelling, ranting but he was furious.

Why did they always have to play this game with him? What was it with these supernatural bastards, couldn't they come up with an original plan? Or were his weaknesses just so obvious they knew exactly which buttons to push. Well not this time. This time he wasn't falling for this bullshit. He was going to...

Stare at Dean's worried face and listen as he demanded to know what the hell was going on?

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean sounded furious but there was fear mixed with overwhelming relief in his eyes.

Sam glanced around the completely empty bar but they were alone. Even Cas had vanished.

"We need to get out of here, now." Sam was already marching for the front door and hoping, praying that when he got there they'd be allowed out. That this wasn't going to be another game, another time and place where they got stuck and couldn't get out. Another of Gabriel's sick and twisted entertainments.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean was right behind him even as he kept up his demands for information.

"Gabriel took me. I don't know where but it wasn't local." The door opened easily and he strode out into the night without a single misstep. Nothing to suggest another TV land style game.

"How'd you know that?"

Dean was coming up beside him now as they went back the way they'd come, heading straight for the Impala.

"It was raining there."

"And he just let you go?" Dean's eyes were wary as they slid into the front seat, shot guns still in hand.

"Can we just go? Now, please?" Sam could still feel the wave of adrenaline racing through his veins, just like the demon blood, making him feel hyper alert and strong. "Dean I'm serious. We need to get out of here."

"Fine." His face was closing down into hard lines as the car roared to life. "But start talking and are your knuckles swelling from what I hope you did?"

There was momentary silence as the car slid away from the sidewalk. Sam kept his eyes fixed out the windows. Looking, waiting for a sign that this was a joke, that Gabriel was out there, still listening, watching and waiting.

"I punched him."

"Way to go Sammy." Dean grinned.

He tried to flex his fingers and almost cried out in pain.

"Yeah, great, but I think I broke my hand doing it."

"Crap. When we get back to the motel we'll get some ice and..."

"No Dean, we get back to the motel, grab our gear and leave. We are not staying here another night, we can't stay here. Gabriel could be..."

"Sam we don't know how he's tracking us, Cas doesn't know how he keeps finding us. Running isn't going to solve anything."

"Maybe, but I'd rather we get as far away from here as possible."

Dean glanced away from the road to watch Sam's face in the half light from the street lights. He looked angry yeah but it wasn't just that, there was something else, pain, which was logical but also...vulnerable. Sammy looked vulnerable.

"What'd he do to you?"

Bitter laughter.

"Offered me everything I want." Sam sounded defeated which made Dean's heart start to pound, not again, not again...

Sam wouldn't even look at him, Dean's hands started to sweat.

"And what did you say?" Trying to keep his voice neutral, not accusing, not yet.

Silence, road under tires and the purr of the engine.

"Sammy?" Hoping but preparing for the disappointment.

"I told him to go to hell." Barely a murmur.

But Sam still wouldn't look at him.

"Really?"

Sam didn't even resent the implication.

"He offered to help us, find a way to stop me from saying yes to Lucifer and I told him to go to hell Dean." Finally looking over and meeting Dean's flickering gaze. Road, Sammy's face, road again. "So yeah, really." Then quieter. "I'm not that stupid anymore."

"He's the Trickster man you know he was lying to you, right?" Still unsure.

"Yeah I know." Sam looked out the window and sighed. "I just wish..."

"Don't even go there Sam. He's a fucking Trickster, he's just yanking your chain. Don't even entertain the thought he would help us."

"But he..."

"Don't!"

Sam rubbed his undamaged hand over his thigh, sweat rubbing into his jeans.

"You're right." Defeated but he'd hoped, for that half second he'd believed, wanted it to be true.

"Damn straight I am. Guy's a complete dick and have you forgotten how many times he killed me?" Dean was demanding.

"I know, and I haven't." Voice placating.

"Then look at me and tell me you're not entertaining the thought of listening to him next time he shows up." Dean demanded, still unconvinced. "Because I have no doubt he will."

Sam turned and looked at Dean, watching his eyes leave the road to stare at him.

"I'm not, I won't. Next time he shows up we trap him in a ring of holy oil."

"And this time I'm not letting that son of a bitch out for anything. You hear me Sam, nothing!"


	3. Let Sleeping Sam's Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam may be running but Gabriel is persistent and Sam can't seem to avoid him.

Sam flexed his fingers and they weren't broken. In that moment he realised that this, wherever he was, whatever this was, it wasn't real.

The last thing he remembered, he and Dean had thrown their belongings in the back of the Impala and headed out of the motel parking lot. They'd put ice on his hand and Dean had argued they should find a hospital in the next town. Sam had insisted they leave the state first. For once Sam won. Dean wasn't sure if leaving the state would keep Sam away from Gabriel but he was willing to drive all night if there was even a small chance of it.

Now Sam was standing in a candy store, staring around at a thousand different candies. Gabriel. Adrenaline flooded his veins. He was dreaming, he had to be dreaming. It was just like Lucifer, just as invasive, just as...

"You know a punch in the face could leave a guy thinking you didn't like him."

Gabriel was wandering through the aisles, picking up a Hershey's Kiss here, a twizzler there. Sometimes just running his fingers over the candy bars on the shelves.

Sam's jaw clenched.

"Or that his offer to help wasn't appreciated." He stopped at the end of the aisle closest to Sam and started unwrapping a Baby Ruth.

"Get the hell out of my head!" Sam snarled.

"Oh calm down Sammy, it's not like I haven't seen it all before." A smiling wink followed by. "Well, most of it." Smirking.

"I mean it Gabriel..."

"Seriously, you'll give yourself a heart attack." He tossed a Hershey's Kiss in Sam's direction. "You should take time to enjoy some of the finer things in life."

Sam refused to catch the candy and it sailed past him to clatter across the floor and sit forlornly at the base of shelf containing Belgium chocolate Easter eggs.

"Now that was just rude." Gabriel admonished.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Head." Sam was hissing through gritted teeth.

"Why? It's the only way I can talk to you without threats of physical violence, or actual physical violence."

"You said it yourself, it doesn't even hurt. My knuckles on the other hand..."

"Well who's fault is that! I'd have thought that someone with your level of genius would be more of a genius, genius." Eyes narrowing. "Instead of an ignorant moron like your brother. I'd expect a punch in the face from him, but not you Sammy."

"I'm glad I could disappoint you. Feel free to visit in person again so I can disappoint you, again." Sam smiled maliciously.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?" Gabriel's eyes rolled. "Now I am disappointed."

"What? That you can't manipulate me? I'm happy to disappoint you."

Gabriel shifted closer, not even a step but Sam could feel the movement, could feel the edge of something. Energy, a low hum just out of hearing range. It made his breath catch. Heart race. Gabriel had never felt like this before. Then again he'd never invaded his dreams before. Lucifer hadn't felt like this either. But Lucifer had been hiding who and what he was up until the very end. Up until the last moment where he'd revealed the horrible, inescapable truth.

"What on earth made you think I'd admit to not knowing how to help you?" Gabriel was quietly serious. "Think about it Sam. If I really wanted to manipulate you I'd have just said I knew how to stop you saying yes and kept..."

"You're so sure of yourself." Sam ground out. "Did you really think I wouldn't realise just how much you could keep me dangling? Just on the _hint_ that you could help me? Been there, done that, have an Apocalypse to show for it. Do you really think I'm that stupid? That I'd just follow the same routine again?"

Gabriel actually paused, eyes thoughtful.

"So I'm honest and you don't believe me." His smile was coming back, voice flippant. "But if I'd lied..."

"I'm never going to believe you Gabriel, never."

"So it doesn't matter what I say." Gabriel tested out the statement.

Sam paused.

"So I could say that tomorrow you'll wake up and your hand will be completely healed, because I'm sorry you got hurt being a complete idiot. And you won't believe me?"

"You might heal my hand but I won't believe you're sorry. I know you. You'll heal my hand hoping it'll make me change my mind, but it won't."

"Have you given a thought to how paranoid you sound right now?" Gabriel's eyes were narrowing, brows bunching.

"Better paranoid than..."

"Than what? Starting the Apocalypse?" Mocking. "A bit late for that Sam."

"I know what I've done." Sam managed to sound neutral despite the seething pit of despair, regret and guilt behind his words.

"So that's it, you won't listen to anyone who'll try to help you? "

"No."

"But you'll listen to my baby bro Cas? The one who let you out of the lions den, the one who actually supported the angel's plan for the Apocalypse."

Sam looked away. He shouldn't be listening to this. Shouldn't be letting Gabriel's words bother him, but it wasn't anything he hadn't already thought about. Gabriel wasn't creating doubts Sam didn't already have. But Dean trusted Castiel. Castiel had died for Dean, died trying to stop Sam from killing Lilith and starting this whole mess. Or had Castiel let Dean out of the Green Room just that little bit too late so that Sam would have enough time to kill Lilith and start...

Silence.

"My baby brother might be capable of a lot of things." Gabriel's voice was low, almost gentle. "But not that. That would have required acting and God knows he's incapable of that, have you seen him try to lie?" His voice was swinging back to its usual mocking tone. "It's pretty pathetic."

Sam looked up to watch Gabriel's eyes stare directly into his despite the flippant tone and the half smile.

"How do you know? How can you..." Sam wanted to know.

"Because he's my brother." Gabriel shrugged. "He might have been a mindless drone but he chose a side. Dean's side. Which is really..." Eyebrows bunching again, in feigned confusion this time, but his voice was mocking.

"And now you're choosing a side, is that it?" Sam demanded.

Gabriel's feet shifted slightly, the hum intensifying as he blinked slowly but refused to look away.

"Lets just say I have a vested interest in..."

"Right, the outcome. You want to keep on torturing..." Sam was getting angry again.

"Torture, justice. Potato, potatoe." Flashing his best winning smile.

"You're sick you know that."

"Says the boy who drank demon blood." Gabriel shot back.

Sam flinched. Gabriel winced.

"Look..."

"No forget it." Sam said. "I know what I am and what I've done and I have to live with it, but that doesn't make me stupid enough to go down the same road again. You want to help then fine, help. Do something useful, stop Lucifer, save the world but stay away from me."

"And if I don't want to stay away from you?" Gabriel sounded completely serious for once.

"What?" Sam was suddenly frowning. "Why would you...look you know what?" Hands rising, palms out, pushing the thought away. "I don't care. Just stay the hell away from me, out of my head and out of my dreams." Then because Gabriel had been playing a Trickster for at least a millennia. "And away from Dean and Cas too."

Gabriel looked frustrated.

"Go back to sleep Sam."

"But..." Sam started to protest but the candy store was already gone.


	4. Important Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean start asking questions about how Gabriel can track them despite the Enochian sigils that should be hiding them from everyone. The conversations that ensue don't go well.

"I thought you said these sigils." Dean waves a hand vaguely around his chest area, even though Cas is miles away on a mobile phone and can't see the gesture.

They're holed up in another cheap motel somewhere near the Canadian border. It's cold during the day, freezing at night and the room has lousy heating. But the people here are helpful and the foods cheap and good for once, so Sam's not going to complain.

"Would keep any angel, even Lucifer from finding us." Dean's pacing in front of the window, occasionally flicking open the curtain to watch a group of kids kicking a ball around the tiny parking lot. From the expression on Dean's face Sam figures they must be getting closer to the Impala.

Sam doesn't bother to try listening for Castiel's answer, just continues to clean the shotgun across his knees. Gun oil on the bedside to his left, barrel loosely cradled in the palm of his hand.

"That doesn't help answer the question Cas."

A short pause. Another flick of the curtains but Dean doesn't head towards the door so Sam figures the Impala must be safe, for now.

"Well it doesn't. Your 'brother' keeps showing up...Yes...No...Yes...I don't know!" Dean turns slowly then moves towards Sam. "He wants to talk to you."

Sam's not sure he wants to talk to Cas though. Dean's eyebrow rises and Sam takes the phone before another argument breaks out. They've been a few lately. Not surprising. Gabriel just won't leave them alone and Dean's on edge, getting suspicious every time Sam takes a phone call, goes out by himself. To get food, a coffee, to do research.

"Hello Sam." Cas's voice is its usual monotone.

"Cas." A pause. "What did you want to know?"

Sam is always polite but more than that he wants this fixed. He wants a lot of things. For his brother to stop looking at him like he's about to fall off the proverbial wagon, like he's going to do something horrifically stupid and irreversible. Anything to prove he's not worthy of his diminished trust, like he's going to say yes to Lucifer at any moment.

"Dean tells me Gabriel has been following you."

"Ah, yeah Cas." Frowning because that was what he and Dean had just been discussing.

"And that he has invaded your dreams." Sam agrees. "Are you certain that it was Gabriel?"

Sam's eyes widen. That is not the question he expected to hear.

"I..."

"Did not think to question whether it was Lucifer?" Castiel sounds vaguely disappointed.

"How am I supposed to know the difference?" Sam's bristling. "He walks, talks and appears to be Gabriel." Sam stares at Dean in anger because honestly, how the hell is he supposed to know?

Dean's looking shocked as well which is reassuring. At least Sam's not alone in not having thought of it before.

But he knows he should have thought of it first. Knows he should have at least wondered about it. Lucifer has visited him before, where Gabriel has obviously had plenty of opportunities and yet never used dreams to communicate, torment or simply entertain himself.

The threadbare carpet is suddenly fascinating as he contemplates just how stupid he's been.

"Have you alerted him to your whereabouts?" Cas is asking.

"What?!" Insulted. "No! Of course not. Jesus Cas, I'm not a complete idiot. Even if it was Gabriel I wouldn't have told him that. For one he seems to know where we are without being told. And have you got any explanation for that yet?" Demanding.

"No. I have not. The sigils should keep you both hidden from all possible means of detection."

"Yeah well, I hate to break it to you Cas." Suddenly sarcastic. "They're not as perfect as you seem to think they are."

"And for that I am sorry. I will continue to work on the problem." And with that the line goes dead.

After Sam hands Dean back his phone there's just the soft sounds of cloth over metal. Sam can't meet Dean's eyes and Dean can't seem to meet his either. Sam doesn't want to imagine what Dean's thinking right now. More suspicion? Sam's not sure if he can handle any more. He knows he fucked up. Knows this Apocalypse is his fault and that Dean has every right to be hurt, pissed off and generally distrustful of him, but how long before what fragile trust they do have breaks?

"We really should have thought of it before." Dean finally breaks the silence.

Sam glares at him briefly even as he continues to clean and oil the gun in his lap.

"Did he have anything else to say?" Dean wants to know.

"He's sorry." Sam offers. "He'll 'continue to work on the problem'." Unable to keep his voice from sniping angrily.

Dean's starts to unpack his own guns for cleaning.

"Come on Sam, it's not his fault At least no one else has paid us a visit. It could be a hell of a lot worse."

"And when did you become such an optimist?" Sam demands.

"What bug crawled up your ass?" Dean's sniping back.

"Lucifer may be paying me a visit whilst I sleep and you want to know..." Some days Dean really is an idiot. "And what is it with you? You really believe every word Cas..."

Because it's suddenly occurred to Sam that Gabriel, Lucifer, whoever, was telling him Cas was to be trusted.

"Don't go there Sam." Dean's face is suddenly harder, not angry but obviously set, not willing to negotiate or even listen.

"Right. You trust him." Flat and hurt. That used to be him. Dean used to trust him.

"Sam." Warning.

"You know what Dean..."

"Don't say it Sam." Suddenly still, eyes hard, staring. Dean won't even let him begin let alone finish. "You will not like where this conversation will end."

"Fine." Bitter.

Because why would Dean want to listen to his doubts. He trusts Castiel and that's the end of it. Sam knows Dean saw things when he took his little trip into the future but how can he be sure it wasn't just what Zachariah wanted him to see, some false reality. It's not like another notable angel isn't able to create alternate reality's out of thin air.

He finishes cleaning and oiling the shotgun, puts it away and grabs his jacket.

"Where are you going?" Dean hasn't even looked up from the hand gun he's cleaning, voice vaguely neutral but edged in suspicion.

"For a walk."

"Sam..."

"I'll be back later. Don't bother waiting up."

He slams the door on his way out. It's childish he knows but he's had enough of Dean's persistent mistrust. He said they'd try to be brothers again but it's looking more and more like Dean can't see beyond the past.


	5. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it really Gabriel who's been invading Sam's dreams?

"Sam..."

"No." The word's out the moment he recognises the now familiar candy store.

Gabriel, Lucifer, _ The Angel_ is standing at the end of what Sam had come to think of as his favourite aisle. No matter where the dream ends up it always begins here in the Hershey aisle. Commonly next to the Kisses or the Hugs. Innocuous pieces of chocolate in brightly coloured wrappers. He's tempted to overturn the entire shelf. So tempted, but he can't. If this is Lucifer, the Devil then...

The angel actually sighs.

"I guess there's no point even attempting to convince you I'm not Lucifer." His face even looked resigned. A little sad. Completely serious for once without an ounce of amusement or mocking in his hazel eyes. Mouth down turned, lips twisted slightly to the side.

"I don't know which angel you are but please get the hell out of my head." Sam grinds out.

"Please? That's pretty polite for you Sam. Considering what you'd rather be doing right now."

Thrill of fear. Could he see? Did he already know where they were? Was this how he was tracking them? Through his dreams?

"I don't mean." Frustration. He actually looks discouraged, eyes rolling up to contemplate the ceiling. "I can't actually read your mind Sam. Ask Castiel if you don't believe me but I can't. Hell I'd suggest asking Raphael but I can't guarantee you'd survive the encounter."

"But you..."

"I guessed. Some things are so obvious even a blind man could see. Like the fact you want to tear this place apart and destroy every last thing you can lay your hands on. Come on Sam use your brain." The barest hint of mocking bleeding through, like he just can't help himself.  
"I've been around you guys since you were barely more than apes. An angel's going to pick up a few skills in all that time. Like maybe reading your body language."

But Sam isn't listening this time. Whoever he's talking to, it doesn't matter, none of them can be trusted.

"Alright fine." An annoyed sigh, then the click of fingers and they're on a city street.

There's people scattered up and down the street despite the darkness, despite the fact it looks late. Some windows lit with lights but many are dark. Sam knows the feel of a street when it's late or early in the morning. He's stood in enough streets just like this one. Apartment blocks lining the road, fire escapes in dimly lit alleys. Knows exactly how useful they are if a creature decides to hide indoors.

"This is where I am." Gabriel waves an arm expansively, the gesture bringing Sam's attention to the Empire state building on the sky line. "If you aren't familiar with that building." The hint of mockery creeping back in. "I'm currently in New York. There's a few people I've been dealing with whilst I've been here. I'm sure you'll figure out who if you bother to look into it. And no, I don't expect you'll come running because I know you're not that stupid. I've heard the speech before. So please, spare me." He continues to look completely serious. "But I'm here, I've been here all week, except for a few out of town trips."And finally he looks rueful.

"What do you want from me?" Sam finally asks.

"Right now, nothing." With a tiny shrug to punctuate his words.

"And later?" The spike of adrenaline makes his voice hitch, heart start to beat faster.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping for something more but I'm trying for honesty here so yes, there is something I want. But it's not what you think. I'm not angling for your soul or to ride around in your body."

"So what do you want then?"

A slightly mocking smile that transforms into a smirk.

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you."

***

The transition from sleep to awake is sudden and harsh. One moment he's on a street the next, blinking into harsh light and trying to remember how to breathe.

Dean's silent, staring at him from his own bed, obviously awake. He doesn't look like he even bothered trying to sleep. Knife handle visible under his pillow, gun close to his right hand.

"Did I..." Eyes suddenly wide as he catches sight of the look on Dean's face.

Distrust, resignation, a hint of fear and anger.

"Did you what Sam?" Low and painfully neutral.

"Did I go anywhere? Did I vanish? Did he take me..." Fighting blankets to get upright.

Dean's head shakes slightly. "Nope." Movements sharp, muscles tight.

"You haven't moved a muscle. In fact for a moment there you stopped breathing completely." Eyes flicking away to the window.

Silence. Everything quiet, the old heater has finally died. Leaving them with nothing but the sounds of Sam relearning how to breathe.

Why would Dean...? Sam knew it had to be unnerving. Possibly unnerving enough to freak Dean out but why would he be acting cold, aloof, horribly neutral like he had something to hide? Sam could only frown. What the fuck did Dean think he'd done now? And that, that right there was the key. Dean knew he'd been talking to an angel and Dean was convinced that angel was Lucifer.

"You thought I said yes?" He couldn't believe Dean would think it, but with his history... "Dean I wouldn't, I won't ever say yes to him!" But Dean's still staring at the window. Sam's suddenly empty, hollow.

Did Dean really think so little of him now?

"What do you want me to say Sam?" Matching the hollowness in Sam's voice and adding a tinge of resignation. Turning his head to watch Sam carefully. He can't figure out what else Dean's thinking because his eyes are shadowed in darkness, despite the fact all the lights in the room are turned on.

"Could you at least pretend that I won't say yes?" Hopelessness crashing in.

Dean shrugged. Shoulders slightly hunched with resignation.

"I believe you don't want to be his meat suit." Hazel eyes direct, Dean's voice low but clear.

"But you don't believe me when I say I won't say yes?" That hurt.

"Everyone breaks eventually Sam." Head shaking slightly. Simple, irrefutable fact. Life according to Dean Winchester.

"Why are you even here then?" Because fuck that! Fuck Lucifer's plan and fuck Dean for being so certain there was no way for him to avoid it!

A long silence but Dean refused to look away. Sam tried to figure out what exactly his brother was thinking. Because if Dean was so sure then what the hell was he doing here?

"So what did he have to say this time?" Dean abruptly changed the subject.

Sam could only frown, hurt, lost, trying desperately to understand.

"He wanted me, us..." Because Sam didn't want to be alone in this. "To know he's in New York."

"And he expects us to just come running?" Eye brows rising. Dean's voice sharp and incredulous.

"Actually he said he didn't expect anything..." Suddenly uncomfortable for an inexplicable reason. "Well, not quite nothing but he doesn't expect us to meet him there."

"So what did he want?" Frowning confusion.

Dean was trying desperately to stick to business. He didn't want to think about how Sammy had gone still and pale and stopped breathing. Didn't want to think about what may or may not have happened in that moment. Didn't want to consider that Sam may be lying to him right now. That he might have said yes in that moment and right now Lucifer was racing towards them to claim his prom dress.

"Dean." Sam was getting concerned at Dean's patently blank face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Sammy, you were just talking to the Devil himself, why wouldn't I be fine?" Apprehension spilling into his voice.

"I'm not so sure it was the Devil Dean..."

Dean froze, disbelief washing over his face for a moment before his eyes narrowed and his jaw set.

"No wait, let me speak." Sam spoke rapidly, hoping, praying that Dean would let him say what he needed to say. He needed Dean to listen, needed him to at least want to listen to what he had to say. His doubts, his fears, his ideas. Even if they were impossibly stupid and dangerous. "Just hear me out. If you don't want to agree with me after, that's fine but just let me get it out first."

"Alright." Gravel and glass.

"Gabriel said he created his own witness protection with the Trickster...persona. And not even Cas recognised him to begin with. In fact Cas didn't even realise we were dealing with an angel."

Silence. Dean was keeping his mouth shut and his opinions to himself. If Sam wanted to believe that lying...he took a breath and tried to choke down the anger. Instead he tried to listen to what Sammy was saying.

"So?" Dean finally asked.

"So isn't it possible that Lucifer doesn't know what Gabriel looks like now? That he's not even aware he's been playing the Trickster all this time? The dream I keep having is in a candy store Dean, I'm not so sure Lucifer would know enough about Gabriel's sweet tooth to use that."

Which made Dean pause. Maybe Sam had a point. It was a long shot but maybe, just maybe...

Sam sighed.

"Maybe Cas would know more. Maybe I'm wrong." Palms running over his face. Sam was tired, God he was tired. "Maybe Lucifer _is_ powerful enough to know where Gabriel is and what he's been up to."

Dean watched as hope died in Sam's eyes.

Sam really wanted it to be Gabriel. Really, really wanted to not have Lucifer fucking with him whilst he slept. Dean winced a little. Of course he wanted it to be Gabriel. Anyone but Lucifer would be better at this point.

***

Sam's at the computer when Dean comes out of the shower an hour later.

"What are you doing?" Curiosity getting the better of him as he yanks on layers of clothes and finally a jacket. It's dropped below freezing outside and inside isn't that much better.

"Gabriel said..." A pause, because they didn't argue but Sam's not going to assume Dean's on board with his theory either. "Whoever it was, said they were in New York. I figured I'd check it out, see if there were any Trickster style..." He trails off as something else occurs to him.

How had he known that Sam thought he was Lucifer?

"What? You find something?" Dean's moving closer, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

"No. I...He knew Dean...He knew that I thought he was Lucifer, despite the fact he looked like Gabriel."

Suspicion rampant again and this time it's not just Dean.

"They can't read your mind Sam. Cas said the sigils..."

"Exactly. Right. Unless Cas is wrong about the sigils..." Sam's keeping his tone careful, he doesn't want to start another round of that particular fight.

Dean looks unsure, like he doesn't want to doubt but it's there, written all over his face for Sam to see. Dean's not so sure Cas is right about the sigils. For one, Gabriel keeps showing up. And they're both pretty sure it's Gabriel because why would Lucifer be helping them? Unless he's trying to... Gabriel was right, Sam thinks ruefully, they're starting to sound seriously paranoid.

"We really need to speak to Cas." Sam suggests carefully. "He'd know if it was Lucifer showing up to help, right? He's been here twice when he's turned up."

Sam can see the same fear reflected in Dean's eyes. Cas hadn't known they were dealing with an angel when they were stuck in TV land. Archangels have powers Cas can't even dream about. Would Cas really know the difference between Gabriel and Lucifer if they're both capable of illusions that make them appear to be other people?

***

Castiel seems genuinely insulted by their questions. Brow tightening, deep lines and furrows appearing between his eyes.

"It is Gabriel." He intones simply.

"But..." Sam's trying to keep his voice free of irritation. Castiel is an angel. He's spent a lot of time being very sure of himself, but they can't afford for him to be wrong right now. "Are you 100% sure? You didn't realise it was Gabriel at first..."

"I was unable to explain before Gabriel prevented me from continuing." Castiel interrupts.

"You're sure though, not just, you know, mostly sure?" Dean looks uncertain but hopeful.

Cas stares at him, eyes narrowing.

"My brothers and sisters do not appear to me as they do to you. I can see beyond the vessels they inhabit."

"Thank Christ." Dean leans back into the stained vinyl booth. Obviously relieved. "Not that I doubt you man but we had to be sure." He offers in apology.

Cas' eyes slide over to Sam who's reaching for his coffee. Coffee flavoured milk is what Dean calls it. His fingers wrapping around the mug for warmth. It's warmer in here than their motel room but it's still cold.

"Your dreams were invaded again?" Cas asks.

"Yeah." Sam continues to stare into his coffee then finally looks up. "Gab..."

Cas' stare hardens. Sam sighs.

"An angel paid me a visit last night."

"You are still certain it is Gabriel?"

Sam tries not to get annoyed at the condescending tone. Sometimes Cas can't seem to help it. He can be a self righteous asshole, but then again he's an angel and it seems to be the factory setting.

Sam patiently explains his theory as Castiel listens without comment or question. Finally they stare at each other across the diner table in silence.

Dean's eating his greasy breakfast and waiting to see how the conversation will turn out. He wants Sam to be right, he really does. He doesn't want Lucifer invading Sam's dreams. Doesn't want Sam to have to worry every single moment of the day and night. He wants Sam to get some rest, to stop beating himself up about a stupid, monumental mistake. He knows, at least intellectually that Sam didn't mean for this to happen. That he was trying to do the right thing. The right thing completely the wrong way and aided by a hell bitch who just wanted to use Sam to get her own way but...

"The sigils should keep Lucifer from seeing your thoughts the same way they keep you from being discovered." Cas is explaining.

"But Gabriel has found a way around that." Dean rejoins the conversation.

Cas' eyes slide skyward for a moment, thinking.

"Yes and I still don't know how. Those sigils should protect you from all..."

"Then if the angel isn't getting the information from me it's possible it is Gabriel. Right?"

Hope. Fragile, delicate but Sam wants it, needs it to be Gabriel. He may not know what Gabriel's agenda is but he can ignore him if he has to. Lucifer, Lucifer is another thing entirely.

Castiel and Dean share a long look.

"Gabriel has remained hidden for over a thousand years." Castiel sounds as though he's testing the idea. "And Lucifer has been imprisoned far longer. It's possible no one but us has discovered his alternate identity."

"Yeah but was anyone looking for him?" Dean asks.

Cas nods.

"When he vanished all of heaven was sent out to search for him."

"He's that good at hiding?" Sam can't help but be impressed.

Cas simply nods again, barely taking his eyes off Dean.

"Could explain how he knows how to find us." Dean suggests. "Best way to hide from someone is to know how they could find you."

Cas looks impressed by Dean's suggestion. Sam thinks Cas seems overly impressed by Dean in general, then tries to unthink the thought. It's not Cas fault if Dean trusts him completely and barely trusts his own brother. Sam has only himself to blame for that.


	6. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam isn't sleeping and Gabriel decides to pay him a visit, in person.

"Hey there kiddo, how's it going?"

Sam can't help the automatic groan. Dean's out following a lead. Cas went along to assist him. How? Sam's not sure, but Cas seems to enjoy helping out and Dean never says no. Dean rarely says no to Cas. About anything. If anything he seems eager to keep Cas close by anytime he's not out looking for God.

Which leaves Sam alone, stuck in the back of the local library, old text books and recent newspapers coating every inch of the round table he'd commandeered for research.

He knew better than to ask Gabriel to leave, beg to be left alone or simply ignore him. Gabriel doesn't like being ignored. He's more likely to rain snow down on Sam in the middle of the night than allow the insult to pass.

"Hello Gabriel."

Sam can't help but sigh, hand rubbing over his face, fingertips pressing into his temples as a yawn blindsides him. He doesn't want to deal with this right now. He's not even sure he _can_ deal with Gabriel right now.

It's not late, there's at least half a day's worth of light outside but he's tired. They were up most of last night working on their latest case. Normally that wouldn't be a problem but normally Sam would be sleeping four to five hours a night. Normally he'd be dropping off to sleep in the Impala as they drive from one state to another between hunts. But lately he just...can't. If he's honest with himself, he doesn't want to. Doesn't want to fall asleep knowing Gabriel, or worse Lucifer, can step into his dreams for a visit.

"Looks like you could do with a nap there tiger."

A glance in Gabriel's direction and Sam can see the sincerity lingering behind the smile.

"Well maybe if someone would leave me the hell alone I could get some sleep!"

He doesn't meant to snap, really he doesn't but he's just so...

Gabriel's brows rise then drop, suddenly frowning, eyes narrowing.

"Old Lucy been bothering you again?" Flippant mocking barely hiding the concern.

"Like you care." And God, Sam realises, he needs to shut up now before Gabriel gets pissed and decides to smite him for petulance.

But Gabriel only rolls his eyes and pulls a chair out a quarter way round the table. Fingers sliding over broken spines and musty pages as he drops into it.

The fact Gabriel has blocked the exit is obvious. He might be tired beyond rational thought but he is still a Hunter. Now the only way out is past Gabriel but he can barely find the energy to care. They've danced this dance how many times now? And Gabriel still hasn't hurt him. Has in fact saved him a few times. Even if it is part of some grander plan to gain his trust. Sam's not stupid, he isn't falling for that ploy again. And in the end it doesn't even matter where Gabriel sits, if he doesn't want Sam to leave then Sam isn't leaving.

A faint sigh slides out as he tries to concentrate on the paper in front of him, the one detailing all the local girls who've vanished whilst hiking in the nearby mountains. He's supposed to be looking for a connection but he just can't see it. These mountains go on for over a hundred miles and none of the girls have vanished even close to each other.

But that's only half of what he's doing in the library. He could have researched the victims from their motel room. For once the motel has reliable wireless and his laptop is more than capable.

The books he's piled next to him on the other hand, those he can only read in the library. They're old and musty and he can't even take them out the front door. Not that that would stop him if a book was particularly useful but he tries not to steal if he can avoid it.

"So, what you hunting this time Sammy?" Eyes roaming over the collection Sam's piled within easy reach.

"Dean's hunting, I'm trying to figure out how it is that you keep finding us." Words sliding out of his mouth before he stops to consider if it's wise to tell the angel what he's up to.

Gabriel's hand reaches confidently for a book on witches and locating spells. Sam found that one in the New Age section but it's actually fairly accurate. Completely unhelpful once it gets past the basic spell ingredients and an obscure incantation but better than some of the others he found.

"Unless you'd like to enlighten me." Sam prompts carefully.

He doesn't think Gabriel will tell him but it's worth asking, maybe he'll get lucky.

"Why would I do that?" His lips twisting in amusement. "Then you'd just fix the problem and I'd never find you." Hazel eyes meeting Sam's. "And where would the fun be in that?" Smirking.

"Is that what this is to you, fun?"

"Watching two women wrestle in jello is fun." Gabriel informs him. "Following you around the country is practically a chore."

"So why do it?"

"Are we really back to this again?"Overly exaggerated sigh. "I'm helping. You're whining."Hand dismissing the conversation. "Next question."

"You're helping. Really?" Face tightening in frustration. "You call this helping? You call invading my dreams helping?"

"Are you even getting any sleep these days Sam? Because I hate to break it to you but you look like shit."

"What the hell do you care?" Getting angry now.

Gabriel's suddenly still, eyes locked on Sam, hazel almost glowing in the artificial light. Sam can feel it, almost hear it, that low level hum at the very edge of his hearing. He's only felt it in his dreams before but this...here, right now...it feels heavier. Hum growing louder. A potent reminder that Gabriel isn't human, is far from it. Is something else entirely.

"I'm sorry." Words spilling out of his mouth before he can insult Gabriel further.

It's getting harder to breathe, his heart thudding against his ribs as it starts to race.

"I think you should take a nap now Sam." Voice low, dangerous.

"No, wait..." But the darkness is already closing in.

 

***

Gabriel's feet are crossed at the ankles, shoes resting on the table as Castiel rounds the corner. He's been following the sound of Sam's ringing cell phone. When Sam didn't answer his raised voice Castiel thought maybe he'd left the building, had gone elsewhere in search of answers. Calling his cell phone at that point had seemed to be the logical course of action. Apparently it'd been the right thing to do. Even if Sam is fast asleep, slumped over an open book and unable to answer.

"Hey little bro, long time no see." Gabriel lets the book he's been reading fall into his lap, fingers loosely holding it open.

"I saw you three weeks ago." Castiel's watching Sam in concern but he appears to simply be asleep, completely uninjured.

"I see you still haven't gotten the hang of speech post first century AD."

"What have you done to Sam?" Castiel demands.

"Oh nothing, just gave the boy a little nudge so he could sleep." Gabriel's eyes narrow. "Sounds like Lucy's been giving him a hard time."

Castiel continues to frown.

"I was not aware Lucifer had bothered him again."

Gabriel's eyes narrow further, brows creating lines between his eyes.

"Have you been paying attention at all? Or have you been too busy watching his utterly delightful older brother?" Pointed mockery.

Silence.

Gabriel's mouth twists at the obvious answer. He doesn't need Castiel to speak, it's written all over his face, in the subtle tightening of his eyes.

"Hey did you find Sa..." Dean rounds the corner at a lazy stroll.

He needs only a moment to take in the scene. Gabriel's shoes on the table, body completely relaxed as he rocks back in the cheap plastic chair. Sam passed out over a library book, head barely turned enough to allow him to breathe.

"Son of a..."

Gabriel's eyes are already rolling.

"And _helloooo_ to you too Dean." The tiniest hint of an exasperated smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Any chance you could come up with a better greeting? I prefer The Incredibly Restrained Archangel who's currently protecting your brother's dreams." A swift glance to Sam's completely relaxed form. "And also his Rather Vulnerable Body."

"You..." Dean's suddenly surging forward. Gabriel might be between him and his brother but it'll take more than an Archangel to stop him from fighting to get to Sam.

But he only manages one step before something else is in the way. Not something else, some_one_ else. Someone with fingers of steel wrapping around his forearm. And that someone is Cas.

"Cas he..." Blinking in shock.

"Will not harm your brother." Eyes blue and calm and so close.

Dean's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Dean..." But Dean's not listening.

Fear flashing through his eyes as he tries to pull free but Cas won't let him go, can't let him go. Can't risk that Dean will do something unfortunate and make Gabriel lash out in anger.

Till finally Dean ceases to struggle. Cas had a moment to be relieved before Dean simply pulls back and punches him in the face.

"Well done Dean." Cas barely hears Gabriel murmuring over the rush of shock.

Sam's suddenly jolting upright.

"What!" Voice breathless. Books scattering as his arms fly out for balance.

Cas lets Dean's arm go but the damage is already done. Dean can't hurt Cas physically but Gabriel can see how much that blow hurt in other ways.

A click of his fingers and he's standing on Sam's other side.

"What...?" Sam's eyes flickering around the room. "What's going on..." Then confusion fills his face. "Gabriel?"

Gabriel can't help himself from beaming at the guy.

"Glad to see you're back with us kiddo."

"Back? What..." Fear and horror. Then voice dropping in anger. "What did you do?"

Gabriel simply smiles.

"We're leaving Sammy." Dean's voice is low and angry.

Sam's head swings round and he can only frown at Dean bewildered "I..."

"Am leaving."

"Might not be a bad idea Sam, your brother seems to think I've been impinging upon your virtue."

"My what?" Sam's voice cracking on the demand. Eyes narrowing.

"Sam!" Dean's voice suddenly sharp as a razor. "Now!"

"Better get moving, wouldn't want him to have another heart attack." Light mocking but his eyes narrow darkly at Dean.

Dean's glaring daggers right back at him.

"You might want to consider that Cas is _my_ baby brother before you go hitting him again Dean." Gabriel's voice slides lower.

Which is enough to make Dean stop and blink, brow furrowing in surprise as he glances back at Cas. Who's glaring at Gabriel just as hard as Dean had been.

"I want no part in this Gabriel."

"Fine but don't forget what we talked about." Gabriel's eyes flicker towards Sam who's gathering his things and shoving them into his bag.

Cas only nods once.

"I won't."

"So glad to hear it." Then he's gone.

Sam finally stops his frantic gathering to demand.

"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

***

"Gabriel was guarding your sleep." Cas speaks in the same moment Dean spits out.

"You were making nice with that bastard again."

"I was what? Dean no, I was..." Thinking, trying to remember. "I was reading, he showed up, we talked, I got annoyed, he got pissed and I woke up to you guys shouting." Staring at Cas and trying to process what he'd said but getting hung up on what Gabriel had said instead. Frown deepening as he watches Dean. "Did you punch _Cas_?"

Sam has his answer when Dean's eyes flinch. He fell asleep for five minutes and...wait...he is awake right? Focus, just breathe. Gabriel hasn't hurt him in months. Not since the TV land nut cracker game. He's not going to freak out and get all paranoid now. This is real. It has to be real. Because there is no way he would dream about Dean punching Cas and there is no mistaking the animosity Gabriel had shown towards Dean for doing it.

He just has to keep it together and focus.

"Cas?" Confused concern, almost unwilling to believe it.

Of all the things he could imagine Dean doing to Cas, punching him isn't even on the list.

"We should leave." Is Cas' only response.

Sam embraces the surge of anger at Castiel's words. The one time he shows concern for the guy and he changes the subject? He can't believe it.

"Fine." Grabbing his things and stalking past the two of them.

Dean refuses to believe a word he says anymore. About Gabriel's continued presence; that it isn't a result of Sam making some sort of deal or simply encouraging him. And now Cas is refusing to listen to what limited concern he has for him.

He's half way down the aisle when he hears Dean's voice, low and intense.

"Don't you ever come between me and my brother again." Voice pausing and Sam can imagine the flinty stare. "Understood?"

"I understand."

Sam's not sure if it's his imagination, but Cas sounds frustrated? Disappointed? Annoyed? Or maybe it's just Sam's wishful thinking.


	7. Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel approaches Sam with a deal.

Sam finds himself sleeping in the Impala on the way out of town four days later. He's tired but not as exhausted as he expected. It turns out a rugaru was hunting throughout the mountains. Just enough humanity left to avoid the big cities and the outlying towns but not human enough to stop himself from munching on any hikers he came across. And the girls were the softest targets. The easiest prey.

Burning him alive made Sam's stomach turn but it was what they did. Saved people, hunted things.

Memories of fire fill his dreams until the edges of the mountains starts to blur and Gabriel appears.

Sam doesn't even get a chance to speak before Gabriel's raises his hand, palm out to stop him.

"Just passing through, quit your complaining I'm actually doing you a favour."

"A favour? Right." Instantly hostile.

It's not Lucifer, he should be relieved but all he can think is no more, not again and get the fuck away from me!

"You've slept Lucifer free for the last three nights haven't you?" Hazel eyes direct and rapidly narrowing in frustration.

"I..." Mouth dropping open.

"No need to thank me."

Sam can't decide if he sounds amused or bitter.

"Did it ever occur to you to just ask for help?" Gabriel looks honestly baffled, brows tight enough to create deep furrows between his eyes.

"Who from? You?" His distaste at the idea evident in every word.

"You really are a broken record Winchester." An exaggerated eye roll. " How about Castiel? He's an angel too you know. Ever think he might be able to ward your dreams and keep Lucifer out?"

Sam's expression is enough to answer that question.

"Can he?" Refusing to hope, to wonder, why wouldn't Cas offer to help if he could?

"Well...no but..."

"Then why would you..." Snarling anger. He's sick of this game, sick of demons and angels and doubts.

"For once in your life just shut up!" Lightning streaks across the sky. "Do I have to do everything myself around here?" Voice edging back to amusement.

Sam blinks and the angel's suddenly closer.

"Wait...what are you doing?" Instantly backing up, almost tripping over himself to get away.

"You Winchesters really are sorry sons of bitches." Real anger leaking through now. "I'm offering to help you Sam. To ward you from Lucifers dream walking."

Sam's chest is suddenly tight. Safe from Lucifer? Safe from his endless polite offers. His utter certainty that he's going to win. Safe from the faint, disconcerting temptation to just give in. Because Lucifer's found a crack in his armour and he's happy to keep chipping away at it.

Dean doesn't trust him anymore, he never will again. So why keep fighting? They can't stop him. This is the end of days, the four horseman, The Apocalypse. Even the angels are fighting against them. Lucifer's going to win and Sam can't do anything to stop it. All his fault and nothing to do but sit back and watch the world burn.

Gabriel pauses to watch the emotions wash over his face. Hope, doubt, despair. He gives it a moment but Sam isn't moving, isn't speaking, isn't _agreeing_; before throwing his hands in the air.

"This is the thanks I get for saving your sorry ass and making sure you get a good night's sleep?"

"You..." Shock. Because in all that's happened, he didn't stop to consider the fact that Gabriel might actually be helping him.

Silence.

Sam can only stare as his thoughts fly in a thousand different directions. Gabriel put him to sleep the other day, he knows that. Cas even explained that Gabriel made sure Lucifer couldn't bother him whilst he dreamt, he knows that too. But...was this the ultimate trick? Get Sam to agree to a deal that may or may not be helpful at all. That may in fact cost him everything he is, everything he cares about. Because there's always a price. Blood, a life, his soul, Dean, the world.

"Are you really going to make me stand here all night?" And Gabriel really looks and sounds impatient this time, when every other time he's been amused and relaxed.

"What's the catch?" Sam decides to go with direct.

"Catch?"

Sam merely tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. Because he's a Winchester and they've learnt the hard way, in the worst possible way, that there's always a catch. Always a price and it's most likely something he'll regret paying.

"Yeah, the catch. What are you getting out of it?"

He's not entertaining the idea. He really isn't. He just wants to know all the facts. It's better to know everything he can so he can tell Dean. Dean will know what to do. A mirthless huff of laughter. Dean will tell him, to tell Gabriel, to shove his deal where the sun don't shine.

Gabriel's glaring annoyed. Eyes narrow and unfriendly. It's like the ring of fire all over again. Bravado without hope. Sam's not sure he likes where this is going. Gabriel wanted him to say yes to Lucifer back then. Despite the fact things have been different lately, he's not willing to risk it all on the hope that Gabriel had a change of heart.

"I'll be around a lot more and trust me, I'm no happier about it than you are. You're brother is an asshole for one and I have no desire to be near you when Lucifer comes a knocking."

"Coward."

Eyes suddenly hard and flat.

"I'll help you Winchester but I'm not about to stand between you and my brother. That's the deal, take it or leave it."

"Then no deal." And it's a relief just to say the words. To hear them come out of his mouth, clear and sure. He's strong enough to do this, strong enough to say no to them and keep saying no...Doubts start to slide back in.

"You really are an idiot." Gabriel's voice is flat and unfriendly.

"No, I'm simply refusing to make a deal with you. You want to help then fine. Visit, come round, do whatever the hell you like, I can't stop you, but no deals."

Sam's voice is equally flat, only a hint of desperation bleeding through. Just how much longer can he keep ignoring Lucifer? Right now he's being polite but how long is that going to last and what's he going to do when it ends? When Lucifer stops being polite and starts to be more persuasive?

"Fine." Gabriel snaps.

"Fine." Sam echoes.

And suddenly he's alone in the night. He has a moment to wonder about what Gabriel is up to before the mountains fade and Lucifer appears.

 

***

He has nightmares for weeks afterwards. Lucifer strolling through his dreams every night. Offering peace, salvation. What kind of salvation Lucifer can offer, Sam doesn't know. Mainly because he's doing his best not to listen. To walk away, out of whatever room Lucifer constructs when he appears. And Lucifer is being an utter gentleman and letting him leave. Even if he does keep whispering his offers. Whispering as Sam runs, kicks, fights his way past monsters they've hunted all their lives. Whispering til Sam wakes up. Then he falls mercifully silent.

Until he reappears the next night. Then it begins all over again.

***

And the worst part is Dean can see him slowly crumbling, breaking apart. He doesn't know if he's strong enough to do this. Strong enough to keep saying no. He doesn't want to be Lucifers meat suit. Doesn't want to give Lucifer the ultimate vessel. Knows that Nick is barely containing Lucifer and if he says yes he'll be free. He'll be able to use all his powers and Sam doesn't want to imagine how bad things will get then. But he's tired, so tired. Running on so little sleep. Can barely see straight. Suddenly useless for anything but research. And after one tragically fucked up translation, Dean's starts to recheck even that. Just to be sure.

***

"Can't you do something?" Dean's murmuring into his cell phone on the other side of the dark room.

Sam's awake, even if Dean doesn't know it yet. He can feel the cold air where he's thrown off the sheets and blankets. Where he's been thrashing around, fighting his way through the latest nightmare. Running to get away from Lucifer.

"What do you mean you can't? Gabriel could..." Voice rising in anger then dropping. "Oh..." Then softly. "I'm sorry Cas. I...yeah...yeah he's quiet now. No..."

There's an almost silent sigh from the other side of the bed. Sam doesn't even have time to think before the now familiar low hum is getting louder.

"Stupid Winchester." Gabriel murmurs.

He tries to get up, move away but it's already too late. Soft fingers touch the bare skin of his wrist and he's sliding back into darkness.

***

When he wakes again there's a wary truce. Gabriel comfortably sprawled on Dean's bed, TV remote in hand. Shoes and jacket stripped off to reveal a simple red cotton t-shirt. It's half tucked into blue denim jeans. His white sock covered toes tap impatiently as he flicks through the comedy channels. One minute there's studio laughter, the next stand up comedians. The TV is huge against the far wall and Sam has a feeling it's not the same one that was there last night.

Dean's sitting at the tiny table against the wall, pretending he's not watching Sam. Gaze flicking over to Gabriel every few minutes. He's slowly and carefully cleaning all of their guns. Even the knife is gleaming in the early morning light. It's patently clear Dean's doesn't trust Gabriel.

They had an abrupt and furious conversation when Dean realised they weren't alone. Gabriel's given him just enough information to make his heart race with hope then sink with dread.

There's a lot of things he doesn't trust about Gabriel. A lot of things he doesn't want to trust Gabriel with and protecting Sammy is top of the list. Absolutely the most important one. Protecting, Dean snorts. The Trickster protecting Sammy. He doesn't even know how the fuck it came to this but he doesn't like it. It might be necessary but he doesn't have to like it one little bit.

And seeing Gabriel just makes him think about Cas. About how Cas is back to being all formal and polite. Refusing to be drawn into any conversation that doesn't involve an emergency or imminent danger. He shouldn't have hit him. He knows that. Knows he should have found another way but he just...Did what he always does. What he's done his whole life. He saw Sammy in danger and fought, hard and desperate to get to him, to get him out of it. Regardless of the cost.

But this time he's sunk to another all time low in the process. Dirty fingers reach for another gun to clean. The self loathing is a familiar feeling, almost a constant companion now.

A closer companion than even Sam.

He keeps holding himself back from Sam. From getting close to him again and Sam must think it's because he can't forgive him but that's not it. It's hard, he's not going to lie. What Sam did, the lies, the sneaking around, using his demon powers, drinking demon blood and the ultimate betrayal... Choosing a demon bitch over him. It's fucked up. But none of it's as fucked up as the knowledge he can't trust himself.

He keeps harping at Sam. Yelling at him not to fall for the same tricks, but the truth is, he doubts he could stop himself from doing it all over again.

Because right now, if Sam died, he'd sell his soul again in a heartbeat.

Even knowing what Hell is like and what it will likely do to him. He'd do it all again to save him. Not like he can trigger another Apocalypse. He just can't stop himself. Sam is all he has left and without Sam, he's the one who turns into a monster.

***

"Well if it isn't sleeping beauty." Gabriel drawls at the first hint Sam is awake.

Dean glares and grunts, bastards even stealing his lines now.

"What did you do?" Fear in his voice as Sam forces himself upright. "Dean what have you done?"

It's viciously petty, how good it feels to be the one demanding answers for once. To be the one accusing Dean of making a stupid mistake. He has a split second to revel in it before the sinking feeling starts to wash over him.

But Dean just blinks. Then slowly the question filters down and his eyes go hard, jaw clenching. Because Sam knows, knows what Gabriel is offering. Dean's suddenly sure that Gabriel already offered it to him. Maybe not last night but at some point.

He doesn't want to think about the fact Sam might already have said yes. Might already have taken the deal. He just wants to hurt the son of a bitch asshole. Get him away from Sam. Try to keep Sam safe. His hand is automatically reaching for the nearest weapon.

"Uh uh ah." Gabriel's mocking, the hand that's holding the remote waving negligently. He's not even looking away from the television. "We agreed. No violence, no tricks. You don't try to hurt me and I won't use my incredible powers to hurt you." Finally looking at Sam. "How you feeling kid? Must be nice to have a good nights' sleep for once."

Sam can hear Dean's teeth grind as his jaw clenches tighter.

"Dean? What did you do?" Pushing the covers off and climbing out of bed, moving closer to the tiny table covered in weapons.

"You telling me you don't know exactly what he did to you?" Face closing down into hard lines.

"I swear to you Dean, I have no idea what he did. I woke up and you were talking to Cas on your phone, then he touched me at that was it. I don't remember anything else."

Which is the second time that Gabriel's done that to him now.

"You going to tell me you don't know about the deal he's offering?"

Staring into Dean's eyes before he sighs. He didn't tell Dean because he didn't see the point. He wasn't going to say yes and it would only be another thing for Dean to stare at him and accuse him of considering.

"He offered to keep Lucifer from invading my dreams and I obviously didn't take it because I've been keeping you up for weeks with my nightmares. And I'm guessing he's offering the same thing again now, so I obviously didn't agree to any deals last night."

Dean's face softens slightly.

"So what's the catch?" Dean didn't get a chance to ask before. And he wants to know, even if he's going to tell Gabriel to shove his deal where the sun never shines, he wants to know what the bastard is after.

"That he'd be hanging around a lot but he wouldn't help us fight Lucifer. I said no Dean, I just...tell me you believe me?" Suddenly quiet. They made a promise, no more deals and he stuck to it. He needs this. Needs Dean to believe him. Believe in his ability to not make the same mistake twice.

Dean watches his face for a long moment and Sam's heart begins to sink. So this is what it's going to be like...

"I believe you Sammy." Barely loud enough but he's not looking away. Eyes still staring up into his brothers. Then something else occurs to him. "But if you didn't make the deal, why the hell is he hanging around?"

Sam has to ignore the sudden flare of hope, that Dean believes him, might finally start to trust him again. Instead he has to stop and wonder, Dean's right, why is Gabriel still here? He finally turns away to stare at the angel.

"Gabriel?"

"What? A guy can't drop by and visit." Smiling broadly. "Come on guys." Sam and Dean just glare at him with matching expressions. Sam's arms crossing over his chest. "Alright fine. I'll admit it. I may have been hovering a little."

"And you only now decide to help out Sam?" Dean's carefully neutral around the heat spilling into his voice.

"He said no. What was I to do? He's made it perfectly clear he doesn't want my help."

This time it's Sam who quietly loses his temper.

"Get out." Voice painfully tight.

Gabriel blinks in momentary shock.

"I said get out." Arms uncrossing as his fists clench. Dean watches as his whole body vibrates with the desire to throw himself at the angel. He's not sure what damage Sammy could do but he's happy to watch him try if it means the bastard leaves them alone.

"And how much longer can you hold out against Lucifer kid? A week? Maybe a month?"

Sam's halfway across the room before Gabriel's off the bed. But both of them freeze, face to face, inches apart, before contact is made.

"You don't want to do that Sam." Quiet and calm, eyes locking on Sam's and refusing to let go. "I keep offering to help but you keep throwing it back in my face. Eventually I might take no for an answer and then where will you be?"

"Sam..." And this time it's Dean considering Gabriel's words.

"No." Practically snarling, he won't be the first to look away.

"I'm offering to protect you Sam, think about it. Talk it over but think about it. I won't just force it on you. I'm giving you a choice."

"Like Ruby gave me a choice?" The irony isn't lost on Sam, not one little bit.

Gabriel's beginning to frown with something other than annoyance, expression morphing into something closer to shock.

"You think she didn't give me a choice? You think I didn't take myself down that road?" Bitter laughter. "You think I just blindly followed her? Blinded by demon blood and lust." Laughter sharp enough to bleed on. "You really think I didn't choose to drink demon blood so I could kill Lilith which set Lucifer free?"

Dean realises Gabriel's starting to look pale. Which is pretty impressive for an angel. Not even Cas has managed to do that.

"I hate to break it to you Gabriel but I chose it, all of it. My choice, my decision, my..." Voice catching, dropping "My fault. Just like you said. I kick started this Apocalypse."

Sudden silence.

A laugh track played on the TV.

Gabriel's still staring but his dark eyes are slightly wide, body completely still. Still, in a way no human could ever be.

"Then let me help you." Suddenly soft. "Let me keep you safe."

"No deal. No contract. No strings." Sam counters.

"None." Gabriel agrees.

"You keep me safe from Lucifer and that's it. I..." Rephrasing because Sam knows the devil's always in the details. "None of us will owe you anything. Ever."

"You won't owe me a thing." A flicker of annoyance even as he agrees.

Sam glares.

"Fine, no one will owe me anything." Frustration rising.

"You swear."

"On whatever you want." Eyes still fixed on Sam's.

"On the bible."

He visibly flinches.

"Sam, God's dead. He..." Voice hollow. Completely and utterly without hope.

"On the bible." Sam's insisting.

Gabriel finally, slowly nods.

"Fine."

"You tell me exactly what you plan to do before we start anything. And we check with Cas and whoever else we need to."

Gabriel's eyes start to narrow.

"Fine."

"I still don't trust you." Sam's making it clear.

Gabriel lips twist bitterly.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."


	8. Bobby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel has offered a ritual to help Sam deal with Lucifer but now the Winchesters have to decide if he can be trusted.

"Are you out of your freaking mind!" Bobby's yelling down the line. "You can't deal with a Trickster he's a damn..."

"I know what he is Bobby and we aren't making any deals. This is a one-time thing. He helps, no strings." Sam's trying to explain.

"And you really believe that?" Frustration and anger leaking through. "He's a damn Trickster boy, even if he is an Archangel. Doesn't change what he's been for the last, oh I dunno, thousand years. You think that doesn't change a person?"

"But he's not a person, he's an angel and they're not..."

"Not human. I may have noticed. I might know a thing or two about this hunting business you boys are in."

"Bobby..."

There's an exasperated sigh filtering down the line.

"What's he offering?"

"To ward my dreams, keep Lucifer out, stop him from..."

"I get the picture kid." Softer. Then for pure academic curiosity. "How's he proposing to do it?"

Sam explains the ritual, describes the sigil Gabriel says he needs to carve into Sam's skin. Both are needed to permanently keep his sleep safe.

The moment he describes the sigil Bobby's breath hisses in.

"What?" Sam's suddenly worried.

He's worried anyway but to hear the first person they've run this by have that reaction, his stomach starts to sink. This isn't a good idea. Gabriel really is just trying to trick him.

"If what you're describing is accurate you'll be tethering yourself to that bastard. Don't..."

"We're not. Bobby. I'm not that stupid. I'll fax you the sigil first..."

"Damn right you will."

Sam finally grins. This is why they need Bobby.

"If you say it's a bad idea I believe you. I won't go through with it."

"I can tell you right now it's a bad idea. Doesn't matter what he's offering, it's still a bad idea."

"I know but we're..." Taking a breath. "I'm desperate Bobby." Suddenly so tired. He can't, he will... "Lucifer won't let up. Every time I close my eyes he's there, whispering and I..." He doesn't want to admit it but he has to. Needs to be honest about this. "I don't know if I can keep saying no Bobby. I just..."

"I hear you son." His voice is soft, Sam can hear the compassion. Bobby's not blaming him, accusing him of anything. Weakness, of failing...anything. "But let's just take this one step at a time."

He knows Dean called Bobby at least a dozen times in the weeks he was having nightmares. While he was rapidly becoming useless. He knows Bobby understands, knows exactly just how much it hurts to suddenly lose the ability to do this job.

He pulls himself together, suddenly glad he made this call alone. He can't imagine what Dean would be saying right now or just how much fear, disappointment and pure, 'I told you so!' would be evident all over his face.

"I'll make Gabriel write it down. That way he can't accidentally forget a piece or claim we got it wrong."

"You've really come a long way Sam." And Bobby sounds proud.

Proud enough to make Sam's throat tighten. He needs this. Needs it like air to breathe right now.

"I ah...thanks Bobby...I know I..."

"You made a mistake." A humourless chuckle. "Well a few damn big ones but at least you've learnt your lesson."

"I have." Sudden and desperate. "I..."

"Know you have. Now get that bastard to write the sigil _and_ the ritual down and get it to me. Before you do anything, and I mean anything Sam. Don't even think about that ritual before I..."

"Bobby, I know. I won't." Smiling at the gruffness in Bobby's voice. Then serious. "I promise."

"Good." Even gruffer.

And the line goes dead.

 

***

Bobby vetoes the sigil after three days. The sigil is similar to the Enochian sigils Cas carved into their rib cages. But it's too close to an intimate and dangerously permanent binding spell when coupled with the ritual, for Bobby's liking.

Three days in which Bobby read every book on sigils he could get his hands on, some of them at least twice. Three days with Gabriel hanging around their motel room, eating their food and kicking back on Dean's bed.

"Get your own damn food!" Dean yells from the completely empty kitchen. Then a pause as he remembers Cas. Cas who he punched in the face and somehow hurt. "You don't even need to eat!"

They're still on the road, can't risk going back to Bobby's to help with the research. Can't risk leading Gabriel to the last of their extended family.

Sam's not arguing with Bobby but he wishes Cas was around to double check their findings. But Cas isn't around, hasn't come around in weeks. Since Dean punched him in the face to be exact. He's won't even answer Dean's calls lately and if Dean leaves a message he's lucky to get a reply. Dean must have sounded pretty desperate the other night to get Cas to call him back.

Dean left a message three days ago but either Cas is in a region of the world with no cell reception or he's ignoring Dean, both of them, the situation. Which makes Sam all kinds of uncomfortable.

"Maybe we should have got him a satellite phone." Dean wanders back empty handed. "With GPS tracking."

Gabriel snorts from the bed.

He's still in his red t-shirt and blue jeans but he's added a light caramel leather jacket, probably because it's cold. Even though he probably doesn't even feel the cold. Sam and Dean are wearing their jackets inside and Gabriel seems to be following suit.

"Dude seriously? Do you have to put your shoes on my bed?"

Gabriel stops watching the enormous TV he's called into existence on the far wall and stares at Dean, it's not a happy stare.

"Yes, I believe I do." Mouth twitching into a smile.

He doesn't even glance at Sam before he goes back to watching the TV.

"Don't you have somewhere else to go?" Dean demands.

"Nope. Nowhere else in the world." Completely calm and at ease.

"Why not go look for Cas then? Or hey, possibly help him find God." Dean can't help himself from provoking the angel.

Sam watches the tiny flinch in Gabriel's eyes. His whole body moves this time. Sitting up slowly, legs sliding over the edge of the mattress to land feet softly on the floor.

"Missing your precious angel?" Anger filling his eyes now despite the flippant tone. "Well maybe you should have thought about that before you hurt him."

"Not this again. I told Cas I'm sorry." But Sam can see that Dean's nervous.

He can hear the beginnings of that that low level hum. Gabriel usually keeps his Archangel presence in check but now it's leaking out. Spreading throughout the room and suddenly it's harder to breathe. Not too hard yet but Sam knows this isn't good. His pulse starts to speed up. Gabriel's angry. Dean's gone too far this time.

"And that makes it all okay, does it?" Gabriel's voice is tight and he isn't smiling anymore.

Dean's rapidly getting angry now too. He feels bad. Honestly, he feels like hell. He shouldn't have done it. Wishes he hadn't. But he can't change it. It's done. Over with until he sees Cas again.

If he sees Cas again, doubts niggling in the base of his skull. Which is beginning to look unlikely if he won't even return his calls now.

"Drop it." Voice getting warm.

"And if I don't?" Anger spilling into Gabriel's voice to match Dean's. "What are you going to do Winchester? Take a swing at me?" Eyebrow twitching up, head tilting slightly. Sam can see it for the challenge it is. "I'd like to see that."

"Guys, c'mon. Leave it alone." Sam's been trying to head off this argument for three days.

Three days. Everything changed three days ago.

He might be getting peaceful sleep now but the days, Sam sighs, the days are turning into a trial with Gabriel here.

"Gabriel, I'm sure you're sick of us by now." And Gabriel's eyes meet his. Sam gives him his best open and sincere expression. "I'm sure you have things you'd rather be doing."

Gabriel's eyes narrow but he blinks slowly, thinking, considering. Even if he still looks pissed, he's stopped glaring at Dean and Sam's taking that as a win. He has to stop this before it starts. If he can't...he doesn't want to consider just how bad things could end up. Not just for him. Gabriel might just leave him to deal with Lucifer alone but he might hurt Dean.

Sam's not entirely convinced that Gabriel's changed his mind. That he's decided he wants them to say no to his brothers. He might not be convinced but Sam's not willing to risk Dean either. Because if Gabriel has changed his mind, it leaves him free to kill Dean. The perfect solution to keep Dean from saying yes to Michael, permanently.

"Yeah, why don't you go help Cas search for God." Dean continues sniping despite the continued hum.

Fury flashes across Gabriel's face and his eyes snap back to Dean. Dean's found a weakness and he's going to keep hitting it until this sanctimonious bastard leaves. He's had enough of Gabriel. Enough of his...

"Dean." And Sam starts pleading with them both. "Just ignore him." Hoping Gabriel will listen if Dean won't. "Maybe we could all use a break from each other."

Gabriel refuses to look away from Dean. Refuses to let his gaze waver.

"Please?" Begging.

The word makes Gabriel glance over and Sam's got the puppy eyes ready and waiting. Dean always says they're his best weapon in this kind of fight and Sam's willing to try anything. Even if Gabriel is an Archangel and probably won't fall for anything as trivial as his...

"Fine." A click of his fingers and he's gone.

***

"Are you insane!?" Sam's on his feet the moment he's sure Gabriel is gone.

"What?" And Dean's shrugging it off even though the adrenaline is still racing in his veins.

"What?" Sam's staring at him incredulous. "What? Seriously?" Momentarily stupefied. "Dean he's an Archangel, he's..."

"A complete coward, he wouldn't have..."

"And you're so sure?" Daring Dean to lie to him.

Dean glances up, then away. Starts rummaging around in his duffle looking for food.

"He won't hurt me Sam. He's just like Raphael. I'm the dress Michael's wearing to the prom." Slightest hint of bitter amongst the humour.

"And what if he really has changed his mind? What if he doesn't care if his brother needs you as his vessel? Did you ever stop to think about that?"

A pause, Dean's palms are suddenly wet.

"I'm guessing you didn't think of that." Sam presses him, sensing an advantage.

He has to get through to Dean. He has to, because they can't go on like this. Gabriel might be helping out now but eventually he's going to lose his temper and Sam's seen him playing around. Seen him kill Dean over and over and over again. Gabriel is inventive, he uses his imagination and Sam doesn't want to think about what will happen if he gets seriously angry with Dean.

"He's a liar Sammy." Shoving the duffle away and meeting Sam's eyes. "He wouldn't really..."

"He's helping..." Trying again and feeling like he's hitting his head against a brick wall.

"He's trying to trap you Sam. Bobby said..." Totally dismissing Sam's words. Dean can't believe that Sam is even entertaining the thought, the idea that Gabriel might actually be trying to help them.

"I haven't slept so well in weeks." Suddenly annoyed. "Weeks Dean. I can't hear Lucifer at all. He's gone, can't get through. Whatever he's doing just by being here, it works."

"Don't be naive Sammy, he's just..." Disappointment and frustration bleeding through. Why won't Sam just listen to him?

"I'm not. I'm just as unconvinced as you are but he's helping right now Dean and I need that. I need him to keep helping me."

"You don't need..."

"I do Dean." Sudden silence. "I really do. I can't do this alone and right now no one else can help me."

"And you don't think that's exactly what he's been planning all along?" Voice rising.

"I think that's exactly what he's been planning all along but Dean I need..." Desperate. Dean has to understand this, he has to.

"You sound just like you did before." Sudden disgust warring with anger. "Just like with Ruby, with the demon blood."

"Don't, please Dean I..." Because it hurts, he can't, he can't hear Dean do this again.

"You're an addict Sam! A fucking addict and they know exactly how to take advantage of you and you just let them!" Savage anger.

Silence. The sound of Dean breathing hard and fast. His eyes wide and slowly filling with horror.

"Sammy I..."

"Forget it Dean." Quiet, hollow.

"Sam I..."

But Sam's already turning away and reaching for the room key.

"I'll go get us some more food." Soft and deliberately neutral.

"Wait. Sam." Finally stepping into his path. "I'm sorry man, that was outta line. I know you're not..."

But Sam can't even look him in the eye.

"I don't blame you, this isn't your fault Sammy."

"No." Bitter. "I'm just an addict."

"I shouldn't have said..."

"But you're right Dean. I am an addict." Finally meeting his brothers eyes. "I am and I know that. You think I don't remember that every single day. The cravings didn't just go away Dean. I wake up every morning with them."

"But you..." Shock mixed with horror. He didn't know... he'd thought Lucifer was the problem. "Have you..." Words slipping out, he wants to believe. He really does. Doesn't want the doubt that's suddenly screaming at him. He wants to trust that Sam hasn't, would never, but...

"No. I haven't. I don't want to be that person Dean. I never want to be that person again."

"I know. I believe you. I just..." Long pause, savouring the relief. "I just... I don't ever want to see you like that again either."

"And you think Gabriel's going to make me into that person again?"

"I think Gabriel's a dick but..." Cringing because he so does not want to say it. "No. I've seen you Sam. The nightmares, what Lucifer was doing to you. I...I think I'd do almost anything to avoid that too."

"He's not addictive Dean. You may not have noticed but I just sent him packing."

"Until tonight." Doubts still crowding in.

"So what do we do?" Voice quiet.

"Honestly? I don't know." And god did that hurt to admit. "I don't know Sammy. Trust Bobby, hope Cas comes back and suggests something better."

"I'm not doing it Dean. I'm not doing the ritual, the sigil, any of it. I'm not becoming Gabriel's...bitch." Which makes Dean grin. "To avoid Lucifer."

And Dean's smiling, eyes finally clear of doubts. He'd needed to hear Sam say it. Needed to know that Sam doesn't want to do it.

"I believe you." Solemn for a moment. Making sure Sam believes him, because he's finally starting to realise. Sam needs to hear those words just as much as he needs to hear Sam promise he'll never blindly follow some supernatural son of a bitch ever again. "Now let's get lunch, that bastard ate all our food and I don't know about you, but I'm starving."


	9. Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Gabriel gone Sam can't get to sleep.

Sam doesn't want to risk sleep even though he knows he'll have to at some point. Gabriel hasn't returned and he has to consider he might not come back. He wants to be angry at Dean. Dean can't help himself from provoking the angel but Dean's his brother and it's not like he doesn't have a good reason. Gabriel did kill him. Even if he did bring him back after six painful months.

The room is quiet, just the soft sounds of typing as he checks the news from the laptop. Dean went to bed hours ago. Is probably already asleep. Sam could check. He knows the signs that Dean's sleeping. They grew up like this. One bed beside the other. Accept when they had no money and slept in the back of the car. Two small boys on the back seat. Or since they started this road trip. Dean on the front seat, Sam cramped and frustrated on the back. He's slept in worst places, and the Impala is almost home, but he still hates the back seat. Nothing is going to make the Impala bigger. Or his legs short enough to get comfortable.

So he knows what Dean's like when he's really asleep, not just faking it. Knows how he looks, face slowly relaxing, limbs losing the tight readiness they always have, even when he's drunk. Dean never quite gets loose limbed, not completely, not even in deep sleep. Part of him is always alert, always waiting for a threat, the next fight. Dad taught him that, whether he realised it or not. Dean learnt a lot of things from their Dad, not all of them good.

He briefly considered taking a walk earlier. Just around the block, but he didn't want Dean to wake up and find him gone. They've made some progress but he doesn't want to risk it. Doesn't want to see the doubts resurface in Dean's eyes.

Not over something that stupid. He knows they'll be times it gets tested, it's inevitable but he's not going to deliberately test it. He knows exactly how it'd look. Knows that Dean will think he's gone out to do something untrustworthy. That or Gabriel took him. Neither of them trust Gabriel but Dean has a special hatred for him. Hatred born out of a certainty that he's going to hurt Sam.

So Sam trawls the internet looking for their next case. They can't stay in one place too long. It's not safe. Demons are hunting them and the angels have people on the lookout. So it's not worth the risk. Gabriel might...will probably...Sam runs a hand over his face, refocuses his eyes on the screen. He'd like to think the angel would help, but he knows Gabriel. If it's a choice between keeping his identity safe or saving them, Gabriel's going to run. He'll always choose himself. Sam wants to blame him but he's starting to think he'd do the same. Possibly. Probably not.

He's just tired. Not thinking straight. He'll never run and hide, he'll always stand and fight. Running has never been an option for him. He was born to stand and fight. He tried running after they met War and he got to see firsthand what happens when he ignores what he's done. This apocalypse is his fault, his responsibility and he can't pretend it isn't.

But Gabriel's been in hiding for over a millennia. Sam didn't run from his family because they were... Ha. His eyes widen. Actually he sort of did. Not recently, but back at Standford. He was running away then too and he was definitely avoiding his family. He even avoided Dean. He wanted out. Wanted out of this life. Wanted to make his own life, to have a chance to think for himself.

Sam might not have been running from an angelic civil war but he saw Dean and his Dad fight often enough to know that it sucks. He can't imagine what it was like for Gabriel. To watch his brothers kill each other. No, Sam's never seen that. Instead he and Dean get to play host to the ultimate death match.

It's 3am and Sam's re-read the same paragraph six times when he realises he's too tired to think straight. He needs coffee. He needs sleep too, but not badly enough to risk it. Risk running into Lucifer. He's still raw from the last time they met. And it's not like he hasn't missed sleep before. It's part of this job, this life. Usually he'd be lucky to get five hours a night but he still wants to sleep. Wants to lay down. Take a nap. More than that he wants to lay down knowing Lucifer can't find him, can't get to him, can't make him weak and start to give in.

Sam wants a lot of things but that doesn't mean he can have them. He just has to live without. But if Gabriel came back now, helped him get an hour or two, he'd be fine for tomorrow. Fine for when they leave.

Which is why Dean is sleeping. Someone has to be awake enough to drive.

If Cas would just call he'd know if he'll be doing this tomorrow. Another motel room but still unable to sleep. Last time Cas was around they didn't ask because it wasn't this bad. But now they need him, need his advice. If Cas would just call they could ask him about other possible wards.

He knows Cas can't do what Gabriel can. Can't keep Lucifer out just by extending his Grace. Part of Sam hopes he never could, doesn't want to think about just how far Cas has fallen. Fallen because of what Sam did. Fallen because Dean needed him to.

The surge of jealousy leaves him drowning in shame. Dean's his brother. Cas can't change that. What's wrong between them isn't Cas fault. It's his. Partly Dean's but mostly his. Sam has no defence against Dean's distrust. He lied, betrayed his trust, starting the fucking apocalypse. It doesn't give Dean the right to be a complete dick, especially to Gabriel, who might kill him out of spite, or Cas, who's lost everything because of them. But it is understandable.

Sam runs his hands through his hair, pushes it off his face and tries to make sense of the notes he's taken.

There's an apparent haunting in Albuquerque. Mysterious deaths that could be witches in Ohio. Possible woman in white in Colorado. He can only sigh at what he's written. Looks like the Apocalypse party has started and everyone's invited.

At twenty-five to five he glances up at the clock and his shoulders slump. Gabriel isn't coming back tonight. Coffee, he needs coffee. Even if it is the disgusting, instant, motel kind that they always avoid accept in emergencies.

The laptop lid shuts with a click and he stretches his legs, spine cracking. He's been sitting too long but he can't risk the bed. Won't risk falling asleep alone. He needs Gabriel. Damnit. Sigh. Son of a bitch knows just how to play him. But there has to be something else, some other way. Why else would Gabriel stick around after Bobby vetoed the ritual and the sigil? He likes annoying Dean but there has to be something other than that.

The only way to make coffee is to use the ancient kettle but he knows it won't wake Dean. The tiny sound of a gun cocking will wake him but the scream of a boiling kettle won't. He wonders if he could unlock the door without a reaction, but not enough to test it. He doesn't want to know. He really doesn't want to know.

It's mildly amusing that Gabriel shows up when the sugar comes out. It's not refined or flavoured but...Sam misses the chipped coffee mug and realises he really needs to pay attention to what he's doing. Gabriel isn't likely to hurt him. He's been incredibly restrained lately. Might be it's just the simple rule they all agreed to, they won't try to hurt him, he won't use his powers on them, but Sam can take his eyes off him long enough to make a cup of coffee.

Gabriel smirks.

"What, no hello? You didn't miss me?"

"No." Stirring the sugar into his coffee before leaning back against the tiny bench, mug cradled between his hands.

Gabriel's changed his jeans and t-shirt for pale tan chinos and a light blue, button down shirt. He's even wearing loafers. He looks like a wealthy business man. A very relaxed, wealthy business man. Definitely more relaxed than he did before he left and Sam doesn't want to know why. Doesn't want to think about what he might have been up to all day.

"You like the clothes?" Loafers squeaking on the linoleum as his feet move. He's happy, way too happy. "Not my usual style but..."

"I don't want to know." Sam cuts him off. Face grim. "Seriously."

Gabriel's eyes narrow.

"So, ready to get some sleep?" Hands rubbing together.

A glance at the clock and Sam decides it really isn't worth it. Dean will be up any moment.

"I'll sleep in the car."

Then reality hits. Gabriel might not want to stay with them. He's been hanging out, annoying Dean and answering all their questions, even the ones Bobby fired at him. Sam still can't believe he submitted to that. Bobby didn't even try to hide the fact he didn't like Gabriel and didn't trust him as far as he could kick him. Which wouldn't be far. Sam winces. He can't believe he just made that joke, even inside his own head.

"Tiger? You still with me?" Gabriel's watching him closely, almost frowning in concern.

"Yeah. Yeah I...Are you staying?" Trying not to let fear filter into his voice. Let Gabriel know he's got the advantage, got Sam exactly where he wants him. Though he's probably already figured that out.

Gabriel looks at him for a long moment, blinking slowly, hands suddenly still.

"Pass that by me again? You're asking me to hang around? Help you out? Let me guess." A loud sigh. "You haven't asked your brother. The possessive one. Paranoid. Oh and a complete and utter asshole." Flippantly delivering insults.

Gabriel looks frustrated before his eyes soften.

"No, I'm not staying."

"But..." Thrill of fear. Sam can't, he needs...

"I need to find Cas." Quiet. Serious.

"What?" This time the fear hits low in his stomach. "You can't find him?"

Gabriel's face is suddenly tight, frustration mixed with fear.

"No."

"But..." Sam's not going to panic. Cas is an angel. He can't get hurt. Unless another angel...

If he's honest with himself, Sam doesn't like Cas. Hates it when he's around but that doesn't mean he wants him hurt. Trapped, alone, possibly dead.

"He's been hiding from our family and hasn't stopped to think _I_ might want to find him." Gabriel is explaining tightly. "That or after the stunt your brother pulled he doesn't _want_ to be found." Barest hint of anger coming through.

"Or he's busy looking for..." But Sam stops, doesn't say it. Gabriel doesn't like to be reminded.

His eyes flinch anyway and he looks past Sam to Dean.

"So I'm off to find my wayward little bro." Shrugging, attempting to smile.

"But you'll be back right?"

"Aww Sammy, gonna miss me?" Mocking amusement but he looks sincerely pleased.

"I need your help Gabriel." Too serious.

"And don't I know it kid." Suddenly direct.

"Is there anything...Is there any other way? Anything other than the ritual?"

Gabriel suddenly looks smug, too pleased for Sam's comfort.

"There are a few other things." Smiling at him.

Son of a bitch. Gabriel really has been playing him. He shouldn't be surprised but...

"Oh don't pout. You really think I'd bind us together Sam? Was never going to happen kiddo."

"Then why..." Anger heating his voice.

"Because you were never going to take my first offer. You boys are exactly the same. I offer an orange, you'll demand an apple."

"Then..."

"The sigil will work..."

"But Bobby..." Countering.

"There are other ways than carving it into your skin."

"Then how?" Suspicion growing.

Then it dawns. This is why Gabriel didn't argue when Bobby vetoed his proposal. This is why he answered every single question they threw at him.

Dean starts to stir and Gabriel's mouth tightens.

"Should I bother to explain or are you just going to refuse to believe me?" Frustration filtering through.

Sam tries not to get angry. This bastard is playing him, he knows it, he can feel it. But he needs him. Needs something to keep Lucifer at bay. Out of his head. Out of his dreams. And Gabriel might have it.

"How can I trust you?" Trying to keep his voice neutral.

"This again?" But he doesn't look surprised, only resigned. "I'm offering to help, no deals, no contracts, no strings. Just a once in a life time agreement. I agreed Sam. What more do you want?" Then the anger is back, frustration mixed with the constant irritation caused by the Winchester brothers.

"Then tell me the truth. Can you ward my sleep without binding us?" Hazel eyes narrow.

Gabriel stares right back.

"Yes."

"How?" Sam demands.

"The sigil works. I just carve it into stone with my blood, you keep it against your skin and you're Lucifer free." Aiming for a smile but his eyes aren't reflecting anything but anger.

"Is that it?" Because that's too simple, without any ritual it's far too simple.

"It won't last." Eyes unwavering.

"How long?"

"Five days. Six at the most." Slight resignation.

This is what he was offering at the start. Before Sam rejected his help. He told Sam he'd need to be around.

Sam tries to swallow past the nausea. It's come back to blood again. Which is powerful, addictive...

"What else will it do?" Fighting the disgust he feels at contemplating the offer.

Gabriel's mouth twists unhappily.

"Apart from hurting like hell every time I slice myself up for you?"

Sam nods, eyes never leaving his face. If Gabriel's going to lie it's going to be now. Gabriel's jaw tightens.

"I'll feel it when he's tries to get through to you." Face suddenly blank, the barest hint of fear. "If he fights hard enough it's going to hurt, and it won't be you that'll feel it kiddo."

"But you'll keep doing it?" Sam doesn't even try to hide his disbelief. Just watches as Gabriel's shoulders tense before he nods.

"Yes." Eyes holding Sam's, unflinching.

"Gabriel..." But Sam has no words. If they do this, if Gabriel does this... Then something else occurs to him. "Will he know it's you?"

A long pause and Sam can see Gabriel's nervous. Which makes him nervous. He's not convinced Gabriel will go through with it. That he'll keep doing it once it gets hard, when Lucifer starts to fight his way through. Which he will. Gabriel's a coward, he ran away, he's never stood up to his family.

"Eventually."

"Why would you risk that? You've been in hiding for..."

The slightest sigh and an eye roll.

"I have a plan you idiot."

"Why am I not surprised?" Dean's voice comes from the bed.

Gabriel glances his way but otherwise doesn't move. Sam watches his entire face flash with anger, quickly followed by resignation. The anger he gets but why the resignation? Sam starts to frown but Dean's already thrown off the covers.

"So let's hear it then." Dean stands, but he doesn't move any closer.

Apparently his and Sam's argument had some impact.

"If you don't wear the sigil every night it'll take him longer to figure out what's going on."

"Right, like he's not going to notice that Sam's suddenly unreachable via 1800..."

"I never said he wouldn't notice." Faintest hint of anger as he glares at Dean.

"We'll ask Cas." Sam interrupts.

Gabriel snorts.

"That's if he returns your call." Glare intensifying at Dean.

"He's just busy." Dean tries to sound sure, like he hasn't started to wonder if Cas is alright. He's starting to seriously hope Cas is just avoiding him.

"Busy avoiding you Winchester?" Snapping, low hum filling the room. "I wonder why he'd be doing that."

"Can you find him?" Sam breaks in again.

"If you two stop interrupting me every five minutes I can."

"Then go. I'll deal with Lucifer. It can wait." Right now finding Cas is more important. It won't be easy, he knows that, but he can do this. It won't be weeks. Gabriel won't stay away for weeks and risk him saying yes...will he?

"We're not doing anything without talking to Cas anyway." Dean just can't help himself.

"So glad to hear it."

A quick glance to Sam, head shaking slowly, then he's gone.


	10. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel goes in search of Cas and finds something unexpected.

Gabriel catches up to Cas just outside of Rio Pasion in Guatemala. It's past sundown and the jungle is still hot. Green everything trailing all over the place. Green leaves on the trees, green things on the ground. Green vines climbing up the green trees and over moss green stones. He takes a moment to watch Cas circle a Mayan temple, twice. He has a feeling Cas' been circling it for awhile now.

Gabriel won't admit it, well, maybe he would if someone bothered to ask, but it's a relief to see him. Two days of solid searching and he'd started to worry that Cas might really be in trouble. Not just away somewhere avoiding Dean fucking Winchester. Turns out he's just been distracted by a pile of stones mouldering in the Guatemalan jungle.

It's disappointing how unsurprised Cas is when he shows himself.

"Hey Bro!"

And that's when he feels it. The familiar, long forgotten tug of attraction. But it can't be...

Cas' eyes narrow as Gabriel's heart starts to race, chest getting tight. He tries to keep his eyes from widening. He can't let the shock show. He's dead. He's not here. This isn't him. This is just something he left laying around. He knows the presence of God and this isn't it. It isn't even close. Merely a shadow, the barest glimmer.

It has to be a relic. Something he left laying about. He got careless towards the end. Left things laying around all over the place.

This isn't his father. His father is gone. Dead. Gabriel's sure of it. He wouldn't have just abandoned them. He wouldn't. And for a moment the pain's overwhelming. New and fresh and a great ragged hole where his certainty and purpose once lived.

Castiel is watching him way too closely, way too observant and yet not observant enough. Because Gabriel can't let him see how much this hurts. How much he wishes he never came here. Never followed Castiel to this god forsaken place. Godforsaken, bitter. Twisted smile springing forth, trying to throw Cas off, misdirect him, make him ignore his knee jerk reaction.

"You can feel Him?" Voice carrying an emotion Gabriel is sure Cas can't name, doesn't have a name for yet. Something beyond hope. Desperation.

Which makes him flinch. He doesn't want to be the one to break it to him. Doesn't want to tell Cas that this isn't their Father, but there's no one else here to do it. He's stuck with the task of crushing his brothers desperate hope. Maybe even destroy his continued faith. Faith that all he has to do is keep looking. But it's a pointless task. Useless. Dad is dead. But Cas, Cas still has faith. Cas doesn't know any better. Never saw Dad, never heard his words and felt his presence, his...Gabriel can't...can't be here, doesn't want to do this. But he has no choice.

"It's not him Cas." Soft but firm.

"But..."

And Gabriel finally recognises the pendant Cas is clutching in his right hand. Knuckles almost white around the thin leather strap.

He takes in a slow breath and steps closer to his brother. Watches Cas' eyes narrow slightly, suddenly more intense. Not exactly the most welcoming gesture.

This isn't Cas' fault. He's just too young. Too young to have heard about the old relics. That the pendant clutched tight in his hand will react to them as well. Not as strongly, but a reaction none the less. Gabriel sighs. Poor bastard's probably been tripping all over the world hoping for a sign, anything, and now he's got a little heat he's excited. Well, Gabriel muses, as excited as Castiel gets.

He tries a little harsh truth and logic.

"If it was Dad." And it's hard to say the word. "That thing would have lit up like a Christmas tree. You'd have probably set half the jungle alight by now."

Cas hasn't learnt the full range of human expressions but his eyes tighten further in suspicion. He's definitely got that one down. Gabriel's rueful, knows exactly where he learnt it. Cas glances back at the temple before staring at him again, watching for a sign he's lying, joking, anything other than telling him the truth.

"I'm sorry Cas." And he really, genuinely is.

"Then why..."

"It's probably just an old relic." Shrugging his shoulders, light cotton shirt sliding against his damp skin. The jungle's hot and he's letting himself feel it, anything to distract himself from that incessant tugging.

Cas frowns. Gabriel can see he's still trying to decide whether he can be trusted. He's glad Cas isn't just blinding following orders anymore, listening to any angel who tells him something but it's getting rather tiresome to be looked at with nothing but suspicion.

"Dad had a lot of things he left laying around, he wasn't exactly the tidiest of guys you know."

Which, of course, Cas doesn't know. Gabriel winces. Way to go genius. Really helping your case here.

"I've never heard of any old relics." Cas sounds slightly arrogant, sure of himself.

"Yeah well, you're not exactly management Cas." Attempting humour. It falls flat. He just doesn't have his heart in it.

He wants to leave. Get as far away from here as possible. As far away from that taunting glimmer of his absent, long dead father. Far away and preferably somewhere that has alcohol. Women, chocolate and alcohol. Lots of alcohol. He might not be able to get drunk, but if he drinks enough he can dull the pain. Turn it from something sharp and jagged to something aching and hollow.

"Are you done?" Hoping Cas is and they can get out of here now.

But Cas' attention is back on the temple.

"Cas..."

"What is it?" He's not even looking at Gabriel, blue eyes flicking all over the structure before them.

Gabriel's eyes follow the stone stairs leading up into the night sky. Inlaid pictures telling the story of a son who rebelled against his family and took up arms to fight them. The irony isn't lost on Gabriel, not one single step of it. The city that once lived here was aggressive, it attacked a lot of towns in the region. Till the other towns rose up and defeated them. Leaving the city a shell, abandoned. There's nothing left now but stones. Stones and a shining piece of God himself.

Cas' eyes flick from left to right, and if he were human, Gabriel would say he looks curious. But instead he shrugs. It's a temple, there might be a relic inside but he doesn't care, it's doesn't matter. None of it matters. They're just trinkets in comparison to the old man himself. Gabriel wants to leave, he really, really wants to leave.

But Cas isn't moving, is still rooted to the spot even if he does turn intense blue eyes on him. And Gabriel knows what he's going to ask. Already knows what Cas is thinking.

It's simple self preservation he tells himself. And he's had plenty of practice with that. Cas can't see where it is, can't feel anything at all, he's just following another trinket on a thread. If he tells Cas where it is he can leave. Cas will probably want to retrieve it but he can be half way round the world by then. Half way round the world and drinking.

He's starting to wonder just how many bottles it's going to take. Three? Four? Before it stops hurting. Before he stops feeling like he did the moment he realised Dad was gone, permanently. Wasn't just out somewhere, soon to return. But gone. Utterly and completely gone. Leaving them alone. Without orders, without guidance, without His love.

"Gabriel?" Cas' eyebrows have bunched together.

Mouth twisting he takes a breath and takes them to the heart of the temple. A place the humans have somehow left untouched. On a shelf in the wall is a dagger. Un-rusted with age, still gleaming bright and shiny in the light he's called to see by. Gabriel can't see it as anything more than a sign of a forgetful father losing his things.

There's an intricate picture depicting death, blood and rebirth carved into the jade handle. The blade is double edged, pure, perfect silver. Which must have made the natives wild with envy, considering they didn't even have metal blades back then. The picture represents the twisted cornerstone of Mayan culture. He's pretty sure his father hadn't meant them to sacrifice people to him but like a lot of things, his words were misinterpreted. Their true meaning, his intent lost.

The dagger's in Castiel's hand before he has time to suggest they leave it. The handle flares green at his touch. The blade reflecting flashes of white light across the stone walls. He wants to tell him to stop, to put it down but the wonder and awe on his face, though almost comical, makes him beautiful. It makes Gabriel's heart clench, blood run white hot then ice cold. It's physically painful how much he looks like his brothers once did, before they turned on each other.

Five bottles of liquor? Probably six.

"Are we done yet?" Voice hoarse.

Cas' eyes are still fixed on the dagger which is still glowing softly, but he nods.

"Great."

And he takes them to the nearest bar.

It's barely more than four walls and a thatched roof, and it's hot and dim and full of people. He finds them a rickety table in a back corner and opens his first bottle. It's local fire water, moon shine, rocket fuel but he doesn't care. It's rough and burns and it's perfect. Exactly how he wants it.

The dagger continues to glow in Cas hand, despite the fact Cas is now staring at Gabriel, brows bunching in confusion. The light of awe slightly tarnished. Gabriel snorts. Poor kids almost perpetually confused. That or angry with him. Or suspicious. Mustn't forget the suspicion. He takes another drink whilst Cas just watches.

"Will you put that thing away?" Not bothering to hide his discomfort.

Cas' head tilts slightly but he conceals the weapon in his trench coat. Trench coat! He looks ridiculous out here in the jungle. Everyone else, including Gabriel, is in light cotton shorts and a t-shirt. It's hot. Even at night it's hot. Air hot and heavy, humidity making the air almost drinkable. And Cas is wearing his precious trench coat.

It starts with a snort of laughter but quickly turns into more. Soon he's almost bent double over the table. Laughing hard, then harder. Til he's almost sobbing with hysteria.

They found one of God's tools. An instrument of Dad. It's practically a fucking miracle and Cas' still wearing his trench coat, in the jungle.

Suddenly he doesn't feel like drinking any more. He's already too far gone. If he goes any further he'll lose control and he can't. Can't ever lose control. He likes this fine world and he'd rather not blow a crater in it.

"Why are you here Gabriel?" Voice sharp with something, something not quite suspicion. Maybe fear. Fear for himself, for his brother, the world. Gabriel doesn't know.

"Looking for you kiddo." Plastering on his biggest, brightest smile. Even if the words are completely true. He did come here for Cas. Was even worried about him. Still is.

Cas stares at him in disbelief, then his eyes widen in fear. He's suddenly reaching for his cell phone. When he finds it the reception bar is invisible.

"Guess your coverage doesn't include middle of the jungle."He smirks, pulling himself back together. "I swear your boy's going to lo-jack you next time he sees you."

Cas scowls. But before he can start demanding answers Gabriel offers up the information.

"Nothing happened. They're fine. You have no sense of humour what so ever." Rolling his eyes and creating a soda. The alcohol is long gone now.

"Then why are you following me?" Clearly puzzled.

There's almost a full second before Gabriel watches the oh so familiar suspicion flare to life. With the dagger gone (he can still feel it's presence but it's softer now, quieter, no longer tugging at his senses) he can see Cas is still hurting over what Dean did.

"I can't just spend time with my bro?"

Another scowl and Cas simply leaves.

It doesn't take a genius to guess where he's gone. Gabriel could follow but he's not going to. If he sees Dean now he'll do something unfortunate. Something he'll probably regret the second Sam looks at him in horror. Instead he's going to sit here in the jungle and drink. Maybe not alcohol but he needs the space. Needs the time to regroup, pull himself back together. It's been, he doesn't want to think about it. Dad's gone. Dead. Not coming back. All that's left is a flicker of his presence in scattered tools.


	11. Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas returns to the Winchesters giving Dean a chance to apologise for hurting him.

“Dude, where the hell have you been?” Dean is demanding the instant he has Cas on the phone.

It’s late and he and Sam are in the car, heading towards Colorado.

There’s a pause and Sam can almost hear Cas telling Dean that he’s been out looking for God, just like he said he would.

“Yeah well we’ve been...” Short pause. “No, we’re fine. Why?” Confusion washes over his face to be chased away by fear.

Dean switches the phone to speaker just in time for Sam to hear.

“...Gabriel caught up with me in Guatemala.” And he doesn’t exactly sound happy to have seen him again.

“What were you doing in Guatemala?” Is what Sam wants to know.

“It would be better if I didn’t say over the phone. Where are you?”

A quick glance around and Dean takes a left turn off the highway. He’s pretty sure there’s a diner half a mile down the road. Almost certain he and Dad came here when...

“Dean?” Impatience spilling out of the tiny speaker.

Dean gives him directions and is about to ask if he’s okay but the line is suddenly dead.

“Is it just me or did he sound moody?” Sam’s eyebrows are bunched together, deep lines marking his forehead.

Dean thinks Sam is right, Cas didn’t exactly sound pleased to be talking to them again.

***

Cas’ waiting for them in the car park. The diner’s small and run down but the lights are still on, which is better than Dean expected. He figured it was a good land mark for Cas to find, but that it’d be shut. Now he can look forward to coffee, maybe even food.

It’s not Sam’s fault he’s tired. Sam’s been trying his best to stay awake and only sleep during the day. It doesn’t keep Lucifer at bay but it does let Dean get some sleep at night. But Sam isn’t perfect. The haunting in Albuquerque was real and they spent the entire day hunting. So last night he fell asleep and the resulting screams were not pretty. He woke half the motel at 3am.

Lucifer is not impressed by Sam’s continued evasions.

Isn’t impressed that Sam refuses to see that his way is the only way. That saying yes is inevitable. He never hurts Sam directly, is always polite, always reassuring. All the usual lines that he’ll never lie to Sam, never trick him. But he’s not above forcing Sam to fight every monster he’s ever hunted the moment he walks away without listening.

Dean wishes the Colt worked. Wishes the apocalypse was over and he and Sam could...he doesn’t know. Anything other than what they’re currently doing. Maybe sit still for more than five minutes. Stay in one place more than a few days. He doesn’t want the white picket fence. Knows he’d go crazy within a week but he does want something more than this. He loves the Impala but he’d like to have a home. Just somewhere permanent to go back to after a hunt. Maybe something like what Bobby has, junk yard included, a side-line job to keep them in cash.

Not that Dean’s opposed to fleecing over-confident dicks in bars or taking credit cards from arrogant, over confident bank managers, but he’d like to earn some honest cash just once in his life. It might be a nice novelty.

***

Cas is just standing on the rough packed earth that passes for the diner’s car pack. Trench coat shifting restless in the breeze, weak overhead light illuminating cheekbones, jaw line but casting his eyes in shadow. He’s staring out into the night and Dean can see, even without leaving the car, that Cas isn’t pleased to see them. His shoulders are too tense, back straight as an arrow. Dean sighs. Looks like that stick is rammed back up his ass. And he’s pretty sure he knows why. Knows exactly who’s fault that is.

“Crap.”

Out of all the things he could have done, he had to hit the guy didn’t he? Not talk him round, or argue or struggle harder. Cas won’t hurt him. He knows that, believes it, trusts him. If he struggled hard enough and Cas thought he was hurting him, he’d have let go. Dean’s had a lot of time to realise that. Realise just how many options he had and didn’t bother to consider.

Sammy was in danger, but that’s just an excuse, he can’t keep hiding behind it. He should have thought first. He has to stop justifying it, has to... Cringes. He’s going to have to talk about it. Talk to _Cas_ about it. The simple apology he gave after threatening him isn’t enough. And wasn’t that the smartest move he’s ever made. He should never have threatened Cas either. He has to stop this shit, really has to stop it.

The door squeaks shut after Sam climbs out, all his sasquatch limbs unfolding, but he doesn’t move round the car and closer to Cas when he’s done stretching. Instead there’s a long pause before he leans down and stares through the front windshield at Dean. Forehead lined in surprise and confusion.

Get outta the car you idiot, before you have to have a talk with him too.

Cas hasn’t moved from under the light. Back still ram rod straight as Dean climbs out the door and locks it. Sam’s eyebrow rises a little because Dean’s stalling. Sam’s figured that much out but hopefully not why.

How the hell do you tell an angel that you get it? He rebelled for you, lost everything and you appreciate that, you really do, no matter what a fist in the face may have said? And God, he’s starting to sound like a chick. Which is Sam’s fault, all Sam’s fault with his double skim, caramel mocha latté’s.

“Dean?” Sam’s finally given up on waiting, boots crunching against the loose gravel from the edge of the road. Finally stepping round the car and closer to the diner. “You coming?”

When Dean looks past Sam, Cas is staring at him, eyes direct and intense. Radiating unhappiness. Dean runs a hand over his mouth and just goes for it. Sam’s not going to like it but it has to be done, he has to do this. Can’t let it go on any longer. Can’t risk Cas taking off without giving him a chance to explain.

“Yeah I just, I need a moment with Cas first?”

A chick flick moment. Another wince, keys heavy in his hand. He doesn’t want to do this, hates this type of shit.

Sam frowns, glances towards Cas then his face goes tight with jealousy.

“Whatever.” Turning and heading into the diner alone.

The diner door shuts with a loud bang that echoes into the darkness.

Sam really needs to get over his problem with Cas. Cas is the only real help they’ve got. Apart from Bobby. Because Gabriel sure as hell doesn’t count. Doesn’t matter that he’s offering to help, Dean won’t trust it. They can’t afford to trust it. Even if he does help Sam sleep, he can’t be trusted, he’s got to have a bigger plan. Just like that demon bitch did.

Gravel crunches underfoot as he moves closer to the diner, closer to food and coffee and closer to Cas. Light flashes in Castiel’s eyes as a car passes. Dark blue and steady, unflinching then thrown into darkness again.

“I know I said I was sorry about...” Beginning softly.

“We don’t have time to discuss this.” Cas cuts him off with a hint of impatience.

“Just...” Interrupting, trying to get Cas to listen. “Just let me finish.”

Cas doesn’t try to interrupt again, but his eyes narrow further and he stares at Dean without blinking.

“I shouldn’t have hit you.” Which he’s said before but honestly, it can’t hurt to say it again. “And I shouldn’t have threatened you. You were trying to help and I was an asshole.”

Cas still isn’t interrupting. But his eyes slide sideways to glare at the ground and Dean’s not sure if that’s a good sign or not. At least he’s stopped glowering at him.

“I get it man, you disobeyed. You even died and I...”

He can’t continue. Cas’ eyes are suddenly staring right into him, down and through him. Searching, seeking, looking for something. Something Dean’s not sure he even has anymore. It’s probably something he lost in Hell. Something he carved out with a razor, lost amongst blood and screaming. But Cas’ head finally tilts a little and his eyes lose their horrible tightness. His shoulders are still tense and it still looks like the stick he arrived with is firmly in place, but his eyes aren’t glaring anymore. He still doesn’t look happy but something’s changed.

“We should go inside. I have something you need to see.”

***

The diner is just as run down on the inside as the outside suggests. Filthy linoleum making their shoes stick to the floor. Old vinyl booths torn, stuffing spilling between the tears. The coffee is hot but it’s bitter and burnt and even Dean has trouble drinking it. They don’t bother ordering food.

After Dean is sure the middle aged waitress has returned to what passes for the kitchen, he looks across the table to see that Cas has produced an ominous looking dagger. It glows softly in his hand and sends flashes of light around the tiny booth before he lays it on the table. Then it’s as if a switch has been flicked, the otherworldly crap stops and it just looks like an impressive weapon.

“Whoa, dude.” Dean’s impressed. It’s hard not to be with something like that. “Start at the beginning. And where the hell did you find that thing?”

“I told you before, I was in Guatemala.”

“And this was just laying around?” Incredulous.

Cas explains, voice just loud enough to cross the table and reach the brothers sitting side by side across from him. Explains how he followed the amulet to the temple but was unable to find the source of the amulets reaction. Then Gabriel arrived and gave him assistance. He doesn’t tell them how Gabriel reacted, doesn’t tell them that he’d been convinced that he’d succeeded, had found God, and that Gabriel had quietly, even gently explained he hadn’t. He deliberately leaves out how...unlike himself, Gabriel reacted. So much pain, hints of desperation and finally the hysteria.

“And Gabriel helped you find this?” Dean can’t keep the wary disbelief out of his voice.

“Yes.” Head dipping slightly.

“Really?” Because Dean just can’t believe Gabriel would do that. Would help anyone but himself. Which may be the point. Gabriel may have wanted the dagger all along and needed Cas to find it using his amulet. It’s a long shot but Dean’s willing to believe anything other than Gabriel helped Cas out of the goodness of his heart.

Cas eyes tightening again with the slightest hint of irritation.

“Yes.” He even sounds annoyed.

“But you found the temple right?” Sam’s sliding his fingers carefully over the flat of the blade. “Gabriel just took you inside to where it was hidden?”

Cas eyes flick over to watch Sam’s thoughtful expression.

“That is correct.”

“Are you sure...” Dean can’t help it, he really can’t. Doesn’t believe Gabriel would assist Cas without some catch.

But Dean falls silent at the intensity of Cas’ glare.

“Gabriel was very helpful.”

“I’ll just bet he was. Ever stopped to consider that’s what he wants you to think?” Trying to keep his voice neutral despite the edge of anger. “A couple of months ago he threw you around like a rag doll.” He doesn’t want to hurt Cas’ feelings but Gabriel is a Trickster just as much as he’s an angel these days.

Cas’ glare intensifies, brows lowering and creating deep furrows between his eyes.

“Um...” Sam knows he should do something, stop the rising tension. He might not want Dean and Cas going back to being best fucking friends, but Cas is starting to look like he’s going to smite Dean.

“Gabriel is my brother.” Leaning forward slightly. Face lined with righteous fury. It reminds Dean of that morning in Bobby’s kitchen. “You should try to remember that.”

Even Sam’s surprised at the barely concealed wrath in his voice. Dean can’t bring himself to look away, because it’s suddenly, painfully obvious that Cas is still angry with him. No doubt about it. Despite his attempts to apologise, despite that look Cas gave him earlier.

Underneath it all Cas is still furious.

Dean didn’t expect everything to just go back to the way it was. For one Cas is still too tense for that but...maybe he did. Maybe he thought Cas had seen something, found whatever he was looking for. But apparently he didn’t. Apparently Dean is missing something. Something that Cas needed to see.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Voice hoarse.

“So ah...what does it do?” Sam tries to distract them both, fingers running lightly along the dagger’s hilt now. He wants to pick it up, hold it in his hand, start researching but he doubts Cas will let him borrow it.

There’s a long moment of silence before Cas tears his eyes away from Dean and stares at him. Eyes still narrow, jaw tight. There’s obvious tension in every movement he makes and Sam shifts nervously, leans back. Cas has never liked him. Has always seen him as the ‘boy with demon blood.’ Nothing more than Azazel’s tool. Lucifer’s vessel. The one who made the wrong decision, killed Lilith and kick started the Apocalypse. It’s suddenly hard to swallow, throat painfully tight. Heart quickening in fear. The pulse in his neck visibly jumping. Hands carefully moving away from the dagger.

Sam watches Cas track the slow movement before his eyes go wide.

Shock followed by shame. He didn’t mean to scare Sam. He just...He gave up everything. Everything for Dean and now Gabriel, his brother _helped_ him and Dean is...He doesn’t know. He’s blind to Dean. Can’t see him. The sigils, his impending humanity, he can’t see Dean like he could before. Can’t see the righteous soul he took from Hell and placed inside his renewed body. Can’t see if Dean is still the same soul he saved or if he’s started to twist and turn into something else. Because why else would Dean hurt him?

When Dean hit him in the ‘green room’ he understood why. That was because he wouldn’t listen. Dean needed him. Needed his help, needed him to stop and think for himself. To question what the other angels were telling him and if it was the right thing to do. Dean needed him. And now he’s barely an angel and doesn’t even know if...

“Cas?” Dean’s sharing a worried glance with Sam, both of them watching as his eyes slide briefly shut. “You okay man?”

He no longer looks homicidal but the doubt and despair flitting across his face is infinitely worse.

“The picture on the handle represents death. I believe the Mayan priests used it to sacrifice people to my Father.” Voice completely monotonous, eyes fixed on the table. “I have no idea what other uses it may have.”

“Your... Wait. Did you say Mayan?” Sam struggles to ignore the obvious point, that Cas is not okay, is clearly far from okay, and stick to facts.

“My Father was worshiped by many cultures. As I’ve explained before, your bible gets more wrong than it does right.”

Sam blinks at him for a moment before opening his mouth, but he takes a closer look and closes it again. Cas’ still won’t meet his eyes, they’re sliding slowing around the diner before coming to rest on the dagger again.

It’s a very attractive weapon but Cas feels nothing. It’s simply stone and metal unless it’s in his hand. But his brother reacted to it as though there were something more, something he wasn’t seeing or hearing. It’s possible Gabriel can answer Sam’s questions.

Gabriel who’s still a full angel. Who hasn’t lost parts of who he is. Lost the ability to burn demons out with his touch and send them back to Hell. Who doesn’t feel pain and loss and doubt. Gabriel is so sure of everything. Sure that their father is dead. Sure that he is gone and never coming home. Sure that this quest of his is a waste of time. Where he’s not even sure _what_ he is anymore. Not quite human, no longer fully angel. All he has is his quest, his faith. He has to find God, has to find their father, or everything will be lost.


	12. Help?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is offering to help Sam sleep using the information that Gabriel supplied.

Gabriel shows up just in time for the first test of the sigil. Apparently the Winchesters have convinced his brother to try it out. Or maybe Cas offered to try it out for them. Anything is better than letting him help, right? Bitter smile twisting his lips before he smooths it into an amused one.

He’s standing inside their motel room, just inside the door. Taking in the standard threadbare carpet, peeling paint on the walls, depressingly bland and empty kitchen. He could liven up the place a bit, give it some colour, some actual clean sheets but hey, that would be considered helping and they don’t want that now, do they?

The three of them are clustered around the tiny breakfast table against the wall. Sam and Dean facing each other, Cas facing the drab wall.

“I see you kids decided my information was good for something.” Drawling amusement, feet gliding across the floor.

Dean’s glare comes as if on cue but falters the moment he catches sight of Cas in the corner of his eye. Which is odd because when Cas turns to stare at him he doesn’t look particularly happy to see him either. Eyes direct and unwavering. Ungrateful little whelp. Had he or had he not helped him retrieve that relic? Despite great discomfort to his own self. No one appreciates his help around here.

At least Sam’s holding back on the open hostility, but that might have more to do with the openly nervous look he’s giving the sharp knife in Castiel’s hand. Poor kid really has issues with blood these days. Not surprising really, considering all that demon blood he consumed but it’s not like this sigil is addictive. Angel blood, in any form, is far from addictive. Unless Sam thinks it is, but then why’s he letting Cas go through with it? Why go through with it at all if he thinks he’ll end up on the wrong side of addict town?

It’s an unsettling thought.

“So...” Strolling across the cramped motel room and kicking back on Dean’s bed. Not just because it’s Dean’s bed, it’s also the closest bed to the door. Which incidentally might also be why it’s Dean’s. He leans back against the flimsy headboard, getting comfortable before his arms cross over his chest. “Figured you’d get baby bro to do the deed instead did you?”

“What do you want Gabriel?” Cas’ openly glaring at him now.

Looks like Cas still doesn’t like him. Which is a pity because his little brother’s starting to grow on him. Clueless confusion, anger, suspicion. Just a little taste of home away from home, minus all the fighting.

For a moment he wonders if the dagger’s still with Cas. If he’s kept it or handed it over to these two. The sudden flare of anger catches Gabriel off guard. It’s theirs, his and Cas’. It belongs to them! Dad had... Frustration. Which in reality probably makes it the humans by default. Doesn’t mean he has to like it. He’s not Lucifer, doesn’t want to destroy them.

Humans are actually a lot of fun once you get to know them. What with all the inventive ways they’ve come up with to sin, bully and kill each other. Gives him a reason to get up in the morning, go out and dispense justice to the wicked. But that doesn’t mean he wants to give them Dad’s stuff. He wants to keep it for them, him and Cas, just one last piece of Dad. He has a feeling Cas probably needs that and it’s not like they have anything else left.

A planet full of humans does not count.

“Did you tell him what’ll happen when Lucifer tries to get through?” Sudden realisation hitting. Head tilting as his brows tighten, hazel eyes staring into Sam’s.

Sam wouldn’t just ask Cas to do this without explaining the danger, right? He’s a frustrating, stubborn little brat but he’s not an asshole like his older brother. Unless he is and Gabriel just hasn’t seen it yet.

“We told him.” Dean cuts in. “He knows what’s going to happen and he’s still willing to help. He’s not a coward like some other angels we know.”

“Of course. I’m _such_ a coward.” He can’t help the mocking tone, because it’s beyond ridiculous at this point. “I’m just the one who offered to do it in the first place idiot.” Reminding Dean before his eyes roll. He leans forward, arms uncrossing and watches Sam closely. “You explained everything, right? That Lucifer will eventually know it’s him? That it’s going to hurt? Probably in ways he can’t even imagine?”

Gabriel catches the moment Cas bristles.

“I know what I’m doing Gabriel. This is the only way to protect Sam.”

Is that the sound of Castiel’s pride being pricked Gabriel hears?

“No.” Completely serious, hazel eyes locking with blue. “It’s not.”

Everyone in the room, except him, tenses and a second later he realises exactly what they’re thinking.

“Oh for...” Eyes rolling again, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. He glances at Sam before he focuses on his brother. “I just meant I’m here, I’m offering. I can do this and you’ll never have to slice up that pristine vessel of yours.” Trying to keep his voice light despite the gravity of what Cas is about to do.

“This is my choice Gabriel.” And he sounds very stubborn right now.

Which is great, Gabriel can deal with stubborn, not like all his other brothers aren’t exactly the same. But this is Cas. Cas is young and impressionable and nowhere near as powerful as he is. Has no idea what their charming older brother is capable of when he’s denied something.

“He’s going to hurt you.” Suddenly deathly serious. “He’s going to hurt you in ways you can’t even _begin_ to imagine Cas. You don’t want to do this. Trust me. You really don’t want to do this.”

The flinch is almost infinitesimal. Gabriel doubts the Winchesters even saw it, but he did. He can see the fear flutter behind Castiel’s eyes before he shuts it down and looks determined.

“You can’t be trusted with this.” Words like they’re simple fact.

And ouch, doesn’t that hurt coming from his own brother.

He knew, not like Cas made any bones about it in Guatemala but he’d sort of hoped. Hoped that after a few days to sit and think about it he’d start to change his mind. Start to consider that maybe, just maybe he was capable of helping.

“Fine.” Throwing his hands up in the air. “You want to deal with Lucy, then fine. I’ll just sit back and watch while you scream.”

Dean’s suddenly looking genuinely nervous, Sam’s starting to look uncomfortable.

“Maybe we should...” Sam starts to protest.

“No, don’t listen to him.” Cas’ is looking more determined by the second.

Which makes Gabriel shake his head in frustrated amusement.

“Lucifer won’t harm me. He didn’t harm me in Carthage and he won’t harm me now.”

“You saw him?” Gabriel can’t help himself. He hasn’t seen him, obviously he hasn’t seen his brother in millennia, but... “You saw Lucifer?”

“Yes.” Flat and unemotional.

“How’s he looking?” He can’t help himself, he knows that Lucifer is an evil, twisted creature but underneath it all is someone who was once his brother. Even if now he’s the devil and planning to destroy everything Gabriel holds dear.

“He’s not doing well in his current vessel.” Cas carefully explains, steadfastly not looking at Sam.

“Ah ha. I take it you mean he’s falling apart.” Suddenly smiling, it’s nothing that Lucifer doesn’t deserve. “Guess he’s not exactly wearing the right...” Voice cutting out.

Oh...Well done idiot. Perfect thing to say in front of current company.

Silence and it goes on long enough for Gabriel to glance at Sam, who’s looking pale and Dean, well Dean just looks annoyed, as usual.

“So glad to see you’re looking forward to your little family reunion.” Snide anger spilling out of Dean.

“You were expecting me to pretend that Lucifer isn’t my brother, that he’s not planning to destroy Heaven and earth whilst wearing your brother? To say nothing of the death match he has planned with my other big brother” Mouth twisting slightly as he shakes his head. “Hate to break it to you Winchester but I’m not into denial. Some of us know exactly what’s coming and are still trying to help.” Suddenly on his feet and moving closer. “But you don’t want my help. You’d rather I went away and never came back, no matter what the cost.” Daring Dean to argue. “So sorry to break it to you bucko but you don’t get your wish. I’m staying, I’m helping and you’re going to deal with it.”

“You’re not going anywhere near my brother.” Predictable anger filling Dean’s voice.

“Fine. Let Cas do all the work but trust me on this Dean, I’m not going anywhere.” Finger stabbing in Cas’ direction as his voice rises. “Because Lucifer’s about to slice through him like butter.”

Silence and Gabriel realises he’s breathing faster, harder than normal. This is insanity. He expects Dean to be a moron about this. That’s just a given. Sam too if he’s brutally honest but not Cas. He figured Cas to be the smart one of the bunch.

“Go ahead. Don’t let me stop you.” Turning his anger on Cas, daring him to go through with it now he knows exactly what’s about to happen.

The fingers holding the knife refuse to move as Cas feels the first hints of fear. He knows what it’s like to die and he knows the pain that comes before it. He doesn’t want to feel that again. Doesn’t want to, but Sam needs this, they can’t allow Lucifer to continue to...

“Please, Cas, don’t do it.” Gabriel’s voice distracts him. Low and soft. His brother sounds just like he did back in the jungle, when he told him the heat from Dean’s amulet wasn’t their father, was just an old relic he abandoned on earth.

“I’m sorry Gabriel but I have to do this.” Direct and clear.

Gabriel’s shoulders slump as the breath goes out of him.

“Glad to see you’ve fallen in with martyrs.” Resigned snort. “Wouldn’t want you to grow a back bone for nothing.”

 

***

“Make sure your blood doesn’t get in any open wounds.”

Gabriel’s hovering as Cas sits on a chair he’s placed beside Sam’s bed. Sam’s sitting on the mattress edge, feet tangled between Cas’ and the chair legs. The change of venue was Gabriel’s idea and he’s shocked they actually went for it.

“Why?” Sam’s the first the ask.

Sam looks too big and yet utterly vulnerable. The angels look smaller but there’s no mistaking the edge of power heavy in the air.

“Trust me kiddo, you will not like how it feels.” Hazel eyes serious. “Angel blood and demon blood do not mix.”

“But I haven’t...” Eyes wide, instantly protesting.

“What you still have inside you is enough.” Deadly serious.

“And you know this how?” Dean’s sitting at the breakfast table across the room, trying not to interfere, trying not to get too close to Gabriel or Cas.

Neither of them seem to want him close right now.

Not even Sam protested when Cas suggested he stay away. Not that he can blame Cas, last time he came between him and Sam he ended up with a fist in the face. But he thought Sam might protest. It’s a sign of just how bad things have become that Sam trusts two angels to do this without his brother there to protect him.

Which means he has to do something. The realisation is painful. He has to talk to Sam about things.

Another talk. Great, but apparently he has a lot of apologies to make if people are going to start looking at him as someone who isn’t going to hurt them. Physically or otherwise. He and Sam have trust issues. He knows it, Sam knows it but knowing isn’t the same as doing something about it.

He said months ago that there was nothing Sam could do but he’s starting to think that’s a lie. Maybe there is something Sam can do. And not just Sam. Maybe they both need to work on this. The fresh start idea isn’t working. And it’s not like they have forever anymore. The fucking world is about to end and...

He never wants to see his brother as Lucifer’s meat suit. Once was enough and he realised back then that he and Sam had to stick together. He’s only now realising that sticking together isn’t just a physical state. He needs Sam, Sam needs him. If they don’t talk about this shit then...He swallows hard. He’s seen the monster he’ll become and looking at the gathering across the room, it’s painfully obvious it’s already began.

So he’s left sitting against the wall and catching glimpses of what’s going on, tiny flashes of his brother between Gabriel’s back and Cas’ side. Sam facing Cas, arm resting on his thigh, ready and waiting. They decided the best way to keep the sigil against Sam’s skin was to bind the stone with leather and use that to tie it around his wrist. It’s going to end up looking like some new age hippy bracelet but if it works, Sam won’t mind his endless mocking. He’ll be too busy revelling in a peaceful nights sleep.

If it works.

Dean still has doubts. Despite the fact Bobby agreed it should. Unenthusiastically, definitely not lightly but he still said it was worth a try. Without carving the sigil into Sam’s skin it definitely won’t last long and without the ritual it certainly won’t bind him to anyone. But how well it’ll work and for how long, only a test will tell.

He can’t believe he’s thinking it, but maybe Gabriel is right, maybe Cas isn’t the right angel to be doing this. Cas is cut off from Heaven. He can’t heal people. Can’t burn a demon out of a host. Maybe his blood isn’t potent enough to hold off Lucifer either.

And if it is? He doesn’t want to watch Cas in pain. He will if it’ll save his brother. If it’ll save the world but...He doesn’t want to watch it. Doesn’t want to think about Cas putting himself in danger for them, again. Doesn’t want to consider it might all be for nothing if Sam eventually says yes anyway. He’s seen what happens...

And if he doesn’t stop thinking like that, then nothing is going to change and Sam’ll go dark side because he wasn’t there to help him. Just like now.

“Call it a perk.” Gabriel doesn’t even bother to look at Dean when he eventually answers.

“Right. I can just imagine all the perks you have to offer.” Sardonic and smirking.

“Is that innuendo?” Gabriel smirks back at him over his shoulder.

Dean glares and Gabriel’s smile widens, eyebrow rising in challenge.

“Because I could have sworn you...” Gabriel continues.

“Gabriel.” This time it’s Cas who interrupts them. “You said you were going to be helpful.”

“Never said I was going to be gracious about it.” Smiling down at his brother and ignoring the glower he gets in return. “Lighten up, you’re about to stand between Lucifer and Sammy here.” Voice light but he’s still trying to convince Cas not to do this.

“Lucifer will not harm me. He still hopes to turn me to his side.”

“Yeah well, you don’t know our brother. And if you’d trust me, you wouldn’t get to see just how wrong you are.”

Another flicker of doubt.

How the hell does he keep looking for God when he has so many doubts? Gabriel wonders. He’s not sure if he should ask or if it’ll be the million dollar question that breaks open the dam and destroys what’s left of Castiel’s faith. He gave up years ago. His faith may be long gone, but he’s not in the mood to go destroying Castiel’s. Kid deserves that much after everything he’s been through.

Gabriel watches as Cas finally slides the blade over his skin and lets blood spill free. Watches as Sam instantly tenses, body pulling away even as his pupils dilate. Boy has a serious problem. Even after his warning, Gabriel can feel the pull Cas’ blood has for Sam.

It’s a good thing Cas isn’t wasting time, is simply pressing the stone to the tiny wound and as the flat oval stone gets coated with blood his grace carves the sigil into being. Deep crisp lines, perfect and clean. The blood is everywhere on the stone, everywhere but the sigil itself.

When Castiel reaches for his wrist, Sam instinctually pulls back, flinches away.

“It won’t hurt you kid.” And for the first time Gabriel wants to reach out and steady Sam. He looks ready to bolt, run or lean forward and lick the blood from Cas’ arm. Instead Gabriel reaches out and touches his brothers shoulder, cleaning the blood away and healing the cut with a thought. Cas doesn’t pull away but he does blink up at him in puzzlement.

Gabriel simply raises an eyebrow and drags his eyes over to Sam’s sweating face. One moment, two before recognition dawns. Cas stares down at his healed arm then flicks another glance at Sam’s face. Sam is still staring, swallowing hard.

What a mess, what a huge fucking mess. And he’s trying to help this sorry son of a bitch? Gabriel sighs and watches Cas bind the stone to Sam’s inner wrist. Traces of blood smearing against his skin.

“You might want to cover that.” He suggests, and realises his hand is still resting on Cas’ shoulder.

Shoulder which is finally bare of the trench coat. Even bare of his customary jacket. Only a white dress shirt covering his upper body now, tie hanging crooked from the collar, right sleeve rolled up to the elbow. He briefly considers clicking his fingers and sending the coat and jacket elsewhere, but he did agree not to play games whilst he sticks around. No use of his powers to harm them is the standard terms of their agreement. Preferably no use of his powers at all, but he’s noticed Dean doesn’t object to the over sized TV he always creates.

“There you go tiger.” He smiles down at Sam once the stone is hidden behind a wrist band, tries to turn his attention away from the blood Cas’ pressed against his bare skin. “Now you can get some sleep.”

Sam’s breath is shaky and he finally glances up, down, then up again to meet Gabriel’s eyes.

“I’m not sure I can sleep right...”

But he’s suddenly slumping sideways onto the bed.

“What the hell!” Dean’s demanding, already across the room and closer than Gabriel likes.

“I put the kid to sleep.” Eye roll just as predictable as Dean’s abrupt demand. “He’ll be fine.”

It was necessary. He might have agreed not to use his powers, but some things, some things are necessary. Like Sam getting to sleep tonight so they’re not all on edge waiting. Waiting to see if the sigil works. If Sam is Lucifer free and Cas is Lucifer’s latest toy.

“He’s fine Dean.” Cas informs him wearily. “Simply asleep.”

“You okay?” Dean frowns in concern, because Cas actually sounds tired.

“I’m fine. Carving the sigil simply took more...” A slight pause, eyes glancing away. “Energy than I anticipated.”

“Yeah, energy you don’t have to waste.” Gabriel is staring at him pointedly.

Cas looks away again and Dean frowns, knowing he’s missed something.


	13. Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is falling and Gabriel knows it, but just how far has he fallen?

Gabriel kicks back on Dean’s bed as soon as the room settles into silence. His customary giant TV is on the wall with barely a thought. He keeps the volume down but crosses his ankles and starts unwrapping a candy bar. Letting chocolate crumbs fall where they may. This _is_ Dean’s bed after all and if he can’t antagonise Dean without upsetting his brother, he’s going to do whatever else he can to make his feelings clear.

Now that Sam is asleep, Dean and Cas are surrounded by books they retrieved from the Impala. They’re obviously doing research. Books spread all over the tiny breakfast table, piled on the floor. Gabriel wouldn’t have put anything of value on the floor but no one asked him and none of the books are his. He’s not the poor bastard that’ll have to deal with Robert Singer when the books are returned dirty and stained.

Skin crawling and fingers itching, he’s almost decided to do something, anything to make the place more inhabitable when Dean interrupts.

“You think you could be useful for five minutes?” Dean’s voice is actually neutral, no heat, just lightly taunting.

“Depends on what you consider useful?” He counters. He might be bored out of his mind, TV can only distract him so much, but he’s not about to let the older Winchester in on that fact.

“Gabriel.” Cas’ is staring at him, eyes direct and admonishing.

Cas seriously wants him to play nice with this guy? He wonders how long it’ll take for Cas to see Dean for the asshole he really is. Probably as long as it’ll take Cas to see Sam as someone other than the poor bastard who’s good intentions and bad decisions set Lucifer free. And started the Apocalypse, can’t forget the Apocalypse. He looks away and glares at the TV.

“We could really use your help.” Dean admits.

Which makes him turn back and blink, wonder if he’s just tripped into one of his own alternate realities.

“I could have sworn you just asked for my help.” Disbelief colouring every word.

Dean grits his teeth but holds his tongue and quietly nods.

“That’s if you know anything useful.” Slipping into pointedly doubtful.

Gabriel can see what he’s doing. Needling, pricking his pride, but he needn’t have bothered. They have questions, he probably has answers and he did say he was here to help. Not exactly what he’d planned but if explaining some things will get the ball rolling, he’ll try not to make too much fun of Dean’s inferior knowledge. Because he does _not_ like what Castiel did earlier, does not like it one little bit. It’s too risky. Cas isn’t strong enough and Lucifer is too powerful, it’s a recipe for disaster that can only end in bloodshed or worse.

So with a roll of his eyes he slides his shoe covered feet off the bed. Brushes crumbs off his shirt and watches Dean’s mouth open, then snap shut. It’s almost too easy he smirks, watching Dean’s eyes narrow. Watching him flick a glance to Cas before stomping on the urge to bitch at him. Which explains a lot of Dean’s sudden new attitude of polite requests, instead of outright demanding.

Castiel looks up to watch him just as Dean’s phone rings. Gabriel’s surprised as he pauses and glances around the room. Eyes settling for a moment on his brother before he glances briefly at Cas. The ringtone starts again, this time louder and with the look of a man having made a vital decision he answers it and heads for the door. Cold air rushes into the room, rustling pages and making Sam shiver on the bed before the door shuts quietly and he’s gone.

Dean gone suits Gabriel just fine but he’s surprised Dean left his little...A glance at the sprawling figure taking up most of the queen sized bed, long hair covering half of his face, feet perilously close to the edge... Sammy in their care. Sam who’s blissfully asleep. Hasn’t even twitched except for the shiver. Breathing deep and even. Maybe even Lucifer free.

Maybe he’s wrong and Cas is strong enough to do this. He’s not convinced but he hopes so. Even if what he saw before is troubling him.

The concept that Cas is cut off from Heaven isn’t something that’s lost on him. He knows Cas is cut off. But he’s starting to realise he didn’t quite understand what that meant. Just how far Cas had already fallen. Because seeing him just after Sam slid into sleep...That was the moment it became obvious. Cas is in worse shape than he originally thought. He gets the theory. That being cut off will make Cas weaker but he shouldn’t be _this weak_. Even completely cut off from the host he shouldn’t be falling this fast.

To make it worse Cas has to know what’s happening. Must be quietly freaking out, or whatever he does when he knows his world is ending. Which must be pretty internalised considering he’s taking an Apocalypse in his stride. Suddenly his desperation in Guatemala makes sense. His grace is slipping away and if he doesn’t find Dad soon it’s going to be too late. No more saving the world, saving Heaven and earth with Dean. If he doesn’t find Dad soon, he’s going to lose everything he’s ever known about himself as well.

Personally he figures being sent to hell is a lesser fate. Because being stuck here, unable to do any of the things he loves, bend time, change reality, hand out justice, fly...He almost misses a step as that horror crashes in.

Cas will lose his wings.

Without his wings Cas will be human.

No more immortality. No more invulnerability. Just human. Completely vulnerable. To sickness, to injury. To death. And that’s not the worst part of it. Because no matter what he looks likes, no matter what else he becomes, Cas is still an angel and there is no Heaven for angels who fall.

It’s in that moment, when reality finally comes crashing in, that he wishes he still had faith. If he wasn’t so sure Dad is gone, dead, never coming back, he’d start hunting for him too. Search high and low then force their father to make it stop. Because Cas doesn’t deserve this. Cas is confused and innocent and nothing like Lucifer, nothing like Michael, nothing like any of his other brothers. A little like Anna but she’s long gone.

God, Heaven, it’s supposed to be fair, he’s the Angel of freaking Justice for Christ’s sake but this, this isn’t even remotely fair. Cas tried to stop the Apocalypse, an Apocalypse his own brothers kick started and instead of a reward he gets to fall. Painful, brutal, totally unfair. If Dad were here...but Dad isn’t here. He left. Abandoned them. Died.

Cas’ frowning, lines forming between his eyes before they go wide, then sharp with warning.

“It was my choice.” Soft but determined.

Which just makes it worse. He knew. Knew what he was doing. Knew what the consequences would be.

It’s suddenly hard to hear him. Hear anything. And considering he can usually hear everything, that’s pretty frightening. To be trapped here, die here. To never go home.

He ran away when it got hard. Just left. Ran. Hid. But he could always go home. Anytime he wanted. Anytime he decided he’d had enough. Didn’t want to stay here anymore. He could have gone home. But Cas can’t go home. Will never go home again.

And Gabriel can’t comprehend it...why? Why would he... Then Dean paces past the window and it’s suddenly clear. Enough of a jolt that he remembers. Dean. His brother did this for Dean. Dean fucking Winchester who takes him for granted. Who hit him, hurt him. Who...

“Gabriel.” Cas’ voice cutting through the thought. “No.” Flat and determined. Stepping between him and the window where he can still see Dean.

Outside in the cold Dean is clueless. So fucking clueless.

***

It’s then that Sam starts twitching, making a desperate sound from the bed. Another twitch then a hoarse yell of pain.

Dean bursts through the door a moment later. Glancing at Cas but he’s unharmed, still standing. Relief rapidly followed by disappointment.

Cas is... Gabriel doesn’t want to watch. Can’t watch as his face freezes in anguish, despair. Tiny flickers of pain rushing through his body before his shoulders drop. Failure. It’s radiating with every slow movement.

It doesn’t take an Archangel to know Cas knows what this means. Cas knows exactly how far he’s fallen. Sam twitches harder and Cas flinches. It’s worse than watching him take a blow from Dean. The most ungrateful bastard to ever walk this god forsaken earth.

Sam cries out and he watches Cas look away, scan the room for his trench coat. The overcoat that he convinced him to leave off. He’s going to run. Gabriel knows just by looking, knows the set of the jaw.

“Cas...” Reaching out, making contact the moment he takes flight.

The sensation is disconcerting. When he flies it’s a simple thought, picking a destination and speeding from one place to the next. When Castiel does it it’s a laborious, heavy feeling, dragging them both through the plane of space but not time. He hopes this is just because he’s holding on. That this isn’t...Cas can’t be losing his wings. It’s too soon. Too painful. He can’t. He just can’t.

Cas touches down somewhere south of the Atlantic ocean. Somewhere far away from people. It’s cold and harsh, mostly rocks and ice. A remote region of Antarctica. He can almost see the logic in landing here. Cold, barren, practically lifeless. Why be alone with other people when you can be alone in one of the most isolated places on earth?

“You should go back.” Cas is telling him. Trying for fierce but his glare is full of pain. “Sam needs your help.”

“Sam can wait.” Snapping over the sudden fierce wind which is whipping sharp needles of ice against his skin. He needs to calm down, stop freaking the fuck out because...

It’s a strange feeling. A concept he hasn’t considered in a while. A very long while. Guatemala didn’t count, in Guatemala all he could think about was leaving, getting as far away from his brother as possible. As far away from that taunting glimmer of pain.

Now Cas needs him. His brother needs him and leaving him out here, alone, in this god forsaken place, would be wrong. And for once in his miserable life he wants to do something right. Cas deserves that much from him.

So they stare at each other in silence. Hazel eyes locking with blue. Determined locked with anguish.

Gabriel doesn’t even know where to start but the words are already blurting out.

“Is that what it’s always like?”

Then silence as Cas refuses to answer him, simply stares back. He’s not even looking puzzled or confused now, simply blank and faintly hostile. The wind dies down, stops trying to slice through them with ice.

“Flying, does it always feel like that?” Trying to get a reaction, an answer, anything other than blank hostility.

“If you hadn’t held me back...” Anger filling the hole the anguish left.

“I’m sorry.” Brow rising in disbelief, suddenly frustrated. “Excuse me for worrying about my brother after he realises he can’t work a simple protection sigil.”

Cas simply glowers at him, defiant. Gabriel’s got to admire his balls.

“You haven’t worried about me in the past.”

“New leaf, making changes. Trying to help.” Flippantly trying to put some sense into his brothers head. Then softer. “How far Cas?”

Cas flinches and looks away, stares at the bleak spears of ice in the distance.

“Castiel.” Gently pushing. “How far?”

But all that gets him is a frustrated glare. But he can’t let this go. Can’t just let it rest. There’s movement under his palm, his hand still on Cas’ wrist. If Cas tries to run again he’ll follow. He wrote the book on running and hiding, Cas doesn’t stand a chance.

“Is flying usually that hard or was it really me tagging along that slowed you down?”

“It’s harder than it was before.” Voice brittle. Even if they weren’t surrounded by it he’d be thinking of ice. “But not normally that hard.”

“Have you tried bending time?” Genuine and serious.

Loss carves lines into his face even as he tries to hold onto his anger. Eyes flinching before he looks away, attention absorbed by the ice again.

“I’ll take that as a yes and it didn’t work.”

Which is bad, so bad. He’s watching Cas’ faith hanging by a thread. And Gabriel knows that he can’t lose that. If he loses that it’s the end. He’s seen what will happen. He admitted to Sam that he took a peak. Saw how the world ended. Lucifer. Dean. But they’re not the only ones he saw.

If Cas loses his faith it’s over. He’ll cease to be the Cas he’s come to know. Before now, he ignored, refused to believe it. But it’s suddenly in front of him, Cas is falling and he can’t let it happen. Won’t let it happen.

And he did say he was here to help. He just...never figured it’d end up this way. Helping them this way. All of them. Not just Sam who he figured was the weak link.

“I can help you.” Quiet, eyes catching Cas and forcing him to look at him. Even if he just stares. He’s going to make Cas listen. Going to make him understand. And if Cas refuses to do that...

He can’t decide if Cas is furious, suspicious, angry or hopeful. Cas probably isn’t sure himself. It’s probably some combination of the four.

Which means he should just make this decision and go for it, but he can’t make himself do that to him. He wants Cas to believe him. Wants Cas to agree to this. Even if it is acutely obvious that he could talk all night and his brother will still look at him the same way.

This should be easy. Once upon a time it used to happen every day. But that was before, before betrayal and blood and pain. It’s not like it’s going to hurt him. Unlike something else he’ll be doing later with Sam. And isn’t that something to look forward to.

If anything this is going to be wonderful. Cas might not be his closest brother, might not be another arch but he can’t imagine it being anything less than perfect. It’s always been perfect. Better than dealing out justice. Even better than sex.

So why’s it suddenly hard to tell him? All he has to do is drop one wall. Drop a wall and let Cas in. He’ll still be hidden, they’re perfectly safe. Not like his other brothers will feel anything. Wouldn’t even matter if they were still looking for him.

“I can share my grace with you.” Words finally stringing together and slipping out.

The reaction is immediate, Cas suddenly standing straighter, shoulders pulling back. Brow tightening, eyes narrow. Blue almost radiant in the soft light.

“It’s not possible.” Voice low and clipped with anger.

“Didn’t you ever listen to your bedtime stories?” Flippant demanding even as he frowns stupefied, he can’t completely hide the disbelief. There were a lot of reactions he expected but not this. Not that moving on from despair is exactly a bad thing, but he expected something other than complete disbelief.

Confusion tinges the fury on Castiel’s face.

Then he has to take pity on him, it’s not the kids fault if no one ever told him anything. He can’t expect Cas to figure these things out if no one’s given him any information to start with.

“Right. Of course not.” A huff of disbelief. “Archangels can’t lose their grace.” Lecturing. “We’re made from the very essence of Heaven, of Dad. We can’t fall because no matter where we go, Heaven is with us. Always. Why else d’you think I can still create things out of thin air?” Because hello? Obviously still has his grace. “And did you never stop to question why Lucifer is still powerful despite being cast out of Heaven and into Hell?”

Obviously not from the surprised look on his face.

“I can’t give you back everything.” Pausing to lick his lip, he’s being honest, doesn’t want to get his hopes up, he’s just one Archangel. If he were Heaven in a handy vessel, there’d be no problem at all. “I don’t know if it’ll stop you falling. Not completely but if you want help, I’m your angel.” Mouth quirking into a half smile.

“I won’t bind myself to you.” Cas informs him.

“It won’t bind you.” Direct honesty. Hazel staring into blue. “You can run off and look for Dad and I won’t be able do a thing about it. Apart from tell you it’s pointless. I won’t even be able to find you if you try to hide hard enough. Which honestly, you could probably do with some lessons. It won’t change anything between us. Just consider me your own personal backdoor into Heaven.”

“What do I have to do?” More hope than suspicion this time.

“Nothing. Just...” A sudden wicked smile, he’s thought of something. “Stand there and don’t freak out.”

He gives Cas a moment to consider it then decides it’s move before it’s too late. He’s helping, whether Cas wants him to or not. He can’t, he won’t watch him fall.

As he steps forward Cas’ eyes go wide but he just slides his arms around him. Arms wrapping round his shoulders, feeling his entire upper body freeze and go tight. At first he holds him gently. There’s a good chance no one has done this with him before. But Cas arms start to rise and he holds on tighter, keeping his arms pinned to his sides. Body pressing closer, hands coming to rest on his shoulder and back.

Castiel’s vessel is taller so his face ends up pressed into his open collar. The skin of his neck is cold. Another sign that he’s losing his grace fast. It’s sub zero here but Cas should still be warm. _His_ hands are still warm. Warm and carefully pressing against a fine layer of ice that’s covering Cas’ beloved trench coat. Always with the trench coat. And he can’t help smiling.

“I said don’t freak out.” Eyes rolling as he concentrates.

He’s never done this while inside a vessel before. Every other time it was just a thought. He didn’t have to consider flesh and blood and skin. He could just open himself and...

It’s like the click of a door unlocking, breeze blowing it open wide, hot wind rushing in. Sunlight heating bare skin, his grace making Cas’ muscles relax. Long forgotten smell of home and peace and acceptance. Everything Heaven was, before their brother defied their father, betrayed his older brother and the fighting began. Leaving the place stained in blood and the acid of arrogance.

He pushes against the pain, tries to turn it away. Tries to give Cas nothing but peace and love and acceptance. He can worry about being a complete sap later. Right now he has to shut the door. Leaving it open just a crack. Just enough space for his grace to keep flowing through. Flow directly into his quietly crying brother. Tears freezing on his face.


	14. Failure Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean took a phone call in the previous part and this begins with that call then follows the things that happened from Dean's perspective.

The cold’s the first thing that hits Dean as he walks out the door. The air is freezing and he’s cursing because he forgot his jacket, left it inside. He could go back in but he doesn’t want to deal with Gabriel again. Gabriel keeps pushing, pressing, trying to get him to react and he’s trying not to. Doesn’t want to, doesn’t want Cas to look at him like he’s something from the bottom of his shoe. He’s had enough of those looks since the night at the diner. Diner where Cas made it perfectly clear he wouldn’t put up with Dean mouthing off about his brother. His _brother_. Which is something Dean never considered before, that Cas would see Gabriel as family.

Something happened between them in Guatemala. Because before he left, Cas still treated Gabriel as someone who shouldn’t be trusted. Not that he’s advocated they start trusting Gabriel now but something’s changed. Which meant something happened, something Castiel isn’t talking about. Something other than just retrieving that dagger. Dagger which they still don’t know anything about, despite every book on Mayan lore they can get their hands on.

Bobby even sent over some of his collection, split what little he could find up and left it in a deposit box. Even without Gabriel around at that point they couldn’t risk leading him to Bobby. They still don’t know how he’s tracking them. Still don’t know how he’s bypassing the sigils. So Bobby left the books in a bank deposit box and Dean drove three hours to retrieve them.

They didn’t even see each other. It’s the most paranoid thing Dean’s ever done, and considering they’ve been covering their asses almost since the day they were born that’s saying something. Dean doesn’t even want to think about what it could mean for the future. Not seeing Bobby. It’s not like they see Bobby every day, or every week or even every month but he’s become a permanent fixture in their lives, a surrogate father for him and Sam. And not seeing him, it sort of sucks. At least they’ve still got the phone lines.

“So how’s it going? Any luck yet?” Bobby doesn’t sound particularly hopeful. He may have okayed the sigil, may have said it _might_ work but he’s not counting his chickens. He’s done enough of these things in his life to know that without the right ingredients, they’re bound to fail.

Dean realises it’s probably pointless coming out here, the angels can probably hear every word despite the walls. His and Bobby’s, but he wanted at least the illusion of privacy for this call. Especially with Gabriel still hanging around.

Gabriel the fucking asshole who deliberately left crumbs all over his bed. Not that he hasn’t done the same thing to Sam but that’s different. It’s Sam. Sam’s _his_ brother. They both do shit like that to each other, all the time, or at least they used to. Used to pull pranks and have fun. They don’t do it anymore. Don’t pull pranks. Don’t have fun. It’s a good day if they can ride in the car for an hour without having a fight. Everything’s painfully serious. Jealousy, regret, betrayal. They’re both miserable and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Doesn’t even know where to start. But he hates this. Hates the way everything has ended up.

The distrust, the fighting, staring at Sam like he’s going to turn. He doesn’t want to be this way. Sam doesn’t want to turn, he knows that. Knows Sam doesn’t want to be a meat suit, anyone’s meat suit and definitely not worn by Lucifer to his death match prom.

Sammy doesn’t want to end the world. Sammy’s never wanted to do anything but save it. Even if his stupid decisions landed him here. It’s not his fault. Not really. Well, some of it is. He should never have trusted that demon bitch, and he should have known better than to drink her blood but...sighing, he’s starting to sympathise. The things he saw himself do in the future? Right now he’d swear he’d never do them, but apparently desperation will make him do anything. Even send Cas to his...

“You still there son?”

“Yeah, sorry Bobby.” Kicking snow with the toe of his boot, nearing the end of the covered walkway. “It’s too soon to say.”

“That bozo show up again?” Getting down to business.

The huff of bitter laughter tugs freezing air into his lungs.

“Yeah, right on cue. Just like we expected.” As he reaches the end of the walkway he can see his baby, safe in the parking lot. Sleek and black and shiny despite the patches of snow covering her bonnet, roof and trunk. He’s going to have to come out later and clear it off. If he leaves it till morning it’ll become a two man job and if this test doesn’t work, Sam won’t be much use at all. He’s already starting to look worn and Dean knows exactly how this song goes.

“Any reaction?” Bobby wants to know.

A sigh this time, glancing down at his boots as they scuff more snow off the concrete.

“Nope. Not a thing.” Turning he wanders back the way he came. It’s too cold. He has to keep moving. Can’t just stand and stare. So he makes his way back past the lit window, watching insects beat themselves against the glass, trying to get inside. “Sorry to break it to you Bobby, but the spell didn’t do squat.”

“Well it’s still early days yet. Didn’t think we’d get it right first try, did you princess?” The sound of turning pages and sarcasm filters down the line. “Still plenty more we can try.” A pause and Dean hears the page turning stop, rustling paper suddenly quiet. “That’s if you still want to keep him from following you around.”

“We need to figure it out Bobby.” Kicking a piece of hard packed snow and watching it fly into pieces across the ground. “If he can do it, you can bet your ass some other supernatural bastard can too.”

“Eventually.” Agreeing as the sound of a heavy thump echoes down the line.

Dean’d be worried if he wasn’t so sure another book just hit the table.

“I’d rather be prepared.” That’s one thing he’s completely sure about.

“Well of course you would.” And Dean can hear the eye roll. “You’re not a complete idjit.”

“Maybe it’s not a spell.” And Dean’s just thinking out loud now, hand waving through the air before digging back into his pocket. “I dunno, something else, something we haven’t thought of.”

“You checked the car and all your stuff though, right?” Another page turning so Dean knows it’s just rhetorical.

“Yep. Didn’t find a thing. It’s all clean. Nothing out of place. No talismans, no charms, nothing.” Boot still idly kicking at snow as he paces back the way he came.

“No sigils?” Double checking.

“I even had Cas take a look.” Dean confirms. Cas hadn’t protested their plan, had agreed it was necessary but just before they’d gone ahead with it, he’d briefly looked like he might change his mind. Which bothers Dean. Gabriel is up to something, he’d bet the Impala on it.

“How’s he doing by the way?” Bobby’s suddenly asking. Dean guesses the angel’s finally grown on the guy, that Bobby’s finally forgiven him for putting him out the first time they met in the barn.

“What’d you mean?” He’s already paced back to the car park. Frowning out at his car. He really needs to clear that snow off. Maybe he can convince Cas to help. Or maybe not.

It’s not like Cas isn’t helping, because he is and Dean appreciates that. Really he does. Appreciates that he offered to do this for Sam. That they didn’t even ask. Because letting Gabriel do it? Not an inviting option.

But he doubts Cas will hang around if it does work. At least not how he used to. Cas dropping in and helping. Helping them hunt, helping with research. For awhile there Cas followed him around so much it was like having Sam back again. Like they used to be before everything went wrong. A warm human shadow. Except Cas isn’t human. At least not yet...

“Well you didn’t exactly give him the warmest send off last time he came round.”

“Honestly?” Because he’s not sure if he wants to discuss this with Bobby. Or anyone for that fact.

“No moron I want you to lie to me.” Sarcasm thick. “What d’you think?”

He takes a moment to consider how to answer before sticking to simple facts.

“He’s still pissed.” Scratching the back of his neck. “I tried talking to him a few days ago but it didn’t seem to make much difference.”

“What’d you expect? Roses and a thank you? You hit the guy Dean. A few words ain’t gonna make that right.”

“I know that, but...you didn’t see him Bobby.” Dean doesn’t want to think back to the diner. To the moment he realised exactly how pissed Cas still is. “He looked like he wanted to rip my head off.”

“So you’ve what? Decided to pretend like nothing happened?” Like he doesn’t already know that’s exactly right.

“Maybe.” Guilty as charged. “I don’t know what else to do man. He’s not listening.”

“Try again.” Like it’s obvious and Dean’s an idiot.

“And just hope he doesn’t smite me?” Edge of disbelief.

“You got a better idea genius?” Bobby sounds like he can’t believe he’s hearing this, like he thought Dean wasn’t a complete idiot.

A long pause, because he hasn’t.

“Not really.” Finally admitting. He’s been thinking about it but despite it all he hasn’t come up with anything. At least Sam will break and eventually listen to him. Cas, Cas just glares and changes the subject.

He’s about to ask if Bobby has another detection spell ready when there’s a yell from their motel room. Someone crying out in pain.

“Damnit!”

Don’t be Cas, please don’t be Cas.

He’s spinning round and sprinting for their door even as he starts cursing.

“That what I think it is.” Bobby sounds resigned.

“Yeah, I’ll call you back.”

“You better.” Is the last thing he hears as he hits the door at a run.

***

When he bursts into the room Cas is still standing. And the surge of relief is almost intoxicating. He doesn’t want, never wants to see Cas in pain. But that means...

Eyes flying to the bed to see Sam groaning, face twisted in pain. Crap. The sigil didn’t work.

He’s across the room and reaching down to grab Sam’s shoulder before Sam can cry out again. Gripping his shoulders and trying to shake him awake. He needs to get him awake, out of the nightmare, away from Lucifer. Not just that he needs to get him awake before he starts yelling again. Before his limbs start flying and he starts screaming. If he starts screaming he’ll wake up the motel. And when they get worried they’ll probably call the cops. Again.

But the shaking isn’t working because Sam cries out. It’s an all too familiar sound. The sound he makes when whatever they’re hunting hits him, hurts him, slices into him. The sound Sam makes when something’s gotten past his guard. It’s high and sharp and angry. Breath whining at the end.

“Sammy!” Voice rising over Sam’s next yell.

He doesn’t know what Gabriel did to him earlier but it better not be permanent. Sam better not be stuck like this all night.

Which begs the question, why isn’t Gabriel stepping in to help? Why doesn’t he stop Lucifer from carving up his brother now? Now when he could actually be useful.

“Sam!” Gripping his shoulders tighter, yanking him up off the bed and yelling. “Sam!”

Stupid son of a bitch. Useless fucking Archangel!

Which is when Sam tenses, his back arching...

Then he’s gasping, eyes flying open, suddenly impossibly wide. Sweat sliding over skin, down from his temple but at least he’s awake now. Awake. Safe. No thanks to...

Tearing his eyes away from Sam to glance around the room. He blinks. Glances around again. Because both Cas and Gabriel are gone. They left. And that makes him frown. Cas took off? He left? Cas actually left? He looked fine before, appeared fine when he came through the door. Why would he leave? Unless Gabriel forced him to?

“Son of a bitch.” Cursing as Sam relearns how to breathe.

Gulping in air and coughing as he almost chokes. The hands gripping his arms are the only thing holding him together. Letting Sam know he’s not alone. That he’s here. Awake. Finally free from the nightmare.

Dean turns confused, half angry eyes back to him just as the sweat starts to turn cold. Shivers running up and down his spine. Cold wind blowing in from the open door.

“It didn’t work.” Sammy’s shivering. Eyes still wide, pupils blown. A thin line of colour defending white from black. “It didn’t work.”

“I know.” Letting him go to stride across the room and slam the door closed. He can’t, it doesn’t make sense. Why would Gabriel take Cas? Standing in the middle of the room, hand rubbing over his face.

Which is when Sam sits up and notices.

“Where’s Cas?” Doing a double take around the room.

“I don’t know man, he left or Gabriel took him. I was trying to get you awake so I don’t fucking know!”

Sam blinks in shock and stares. Watches Dean turn and glance around the room again but they’re definitely gone.

Dean knows they’re gone. Not like he happened to miss them the first time he looked.

“What happened?” Sam’s still shivering but pulling a blanket up over his shoulders. He shouldn’t have taken off so many clothes. Should have realised what Gabriel was planning when he suggested they do this on the bed instead of over at the table against the wall.

Silence.

“Dean?”

“I don’t know. Bobby called...I was outside. Then I heard yelling...” Turning to meet Sam’s worried eyes. “You were twitching all over the place, I thought you were going to start screaming again.”

“So they were here? Cas didn’t...”

“He didn’t leave you Sam.” Head shaking. “They were both here when I came through the door.”

“Was Cas...is he okay? I mean...was he in any pain, did Lucifer...?”

And it’s actually nice to hear Sam worried about the angel for once. He didn’t exactly concern himself much when Cas offered to help. Then again neither had he. Neither of them had given much consideration to what Cas would be doing. Risking. At least until Gabriel arrived, gave them a reality check. Or deliberately planted seeds of doubt. Bastard. If only Dean could pin it down, figure out what the hell Gabriel was up to.

“He was fine. He was...Crap.” And reality finally sinks in. If the sigil failed then... “Fuck. Cas.”

“What is it?” And for once Sam is behind on the eight ball, brows tight, lines crossing his damp forehead.

“It didn’t work.” Looking down at Sam and watching realisation dawn. “He couldn’t make it work.”

It doesn’t take much of a leap to figure out why Cas left then, and why Gabriel may have followed. If it was Sam he’d have followed too. _If_ that’s the reason Gabriel left, if he _did_ follow Cas. If Gabriel followed Cas then Dean’s almost relieved. At least Cas isn’t entirely alone. Maybe Gabriel isn’t a complete dick after all.

Then again maybe he just split the moment the sigil failed. Maybe he’s been lying all along. But Bobby said it’d work. Would probably work. Crap.

He should call Bobby.

***

As soon as Sam can stand he staggers into the shower and Dean doesn’t blame him. He knows how realistic the dreams Cas can create are. And he also knows just how dirty he feels after a hunt. Covered in sweat and dirt from digging graves, or sweat and blood and dirt from fighting. And Lucifer strikes him as the kind of asshole that would want Sammy to feel every last inch of it. The sweat, the pain, probably even the smell. He doesn’t need to ask, some things are patently obvious. Like how obvious it is that Lucifer likes inflicting pain. From the sounds Sam’s been making it’s pointedly clear just how much he likes inflicting pain.

Whilst Sam’s in the shower he calls Bobby back, updates him on the news. The failure. The complete and utter failure. Bobby points out they still have an alternative, even if he makes it crystal clear just how much he doesn’t like it. He even makes it clear he’s worried about Cas. About how he’ll take the failure.

Bobby’s not the only one.

He’s already called Cas and left a voice mail. Made it clear he wants to see him, that he’s worried. Not much more he can do till he returns. If he returns.

This was Cas’ plan. No one asked him, he offered. He was so sure he could do it. He wanted to do it. Wanted to keep Sam safe, keep Lucifer out, protect him. But it failed. Cas failed and Dean’s worried how he’s taking it.

***

The bathroom door finally opens thirty minutes later and Sam reappears with semi dry hair. It’s tangled, parts of it almost curled. Most of it sticking up in gravity defying directions. He looks exhausted. Dark smudges under his eyes, face greyish pale. Any day now his cheeks are going to get hollow from all the food he’s not eating. Dean’s seen it before. Watched it all play out in technicolour.

“What you reading?” Sam throws his damp towel over the back of a chair, Cas’ chair. The chair Cas was using before Gabriel showed up, before this whole fucked up test began.

“Dean?” Sam’s frowning down at him, brows even tighter than usual.

“Yeah, sorry.” Tearing his eyes away from the empty seat and up to meet Sam’s frown. At least he’s done something to tame his hair, it’s sort of a pity because now he can’t mock him. He could do with a laugh right now. “Just more books on Mayan culture. Trying to learn something about Cas’ knife.”

“Dagger.” Sam counters, taking the seat across from him, reaching for something to read. His hand dwarfs the leather bound book he chooses. Dean smirks.

“What?” Playing the idiot just to get a rise. He knows it’s a dagger. Not like he hasn’t spent his whole life around weaponry.

“Dagger. A Mayan dagger.” Sam is explaining. “It’s not a knife Dean. Most knives are single edged. Cas’ dagger has two, ergo, it’s a dagger.”

“Well thankyou Mr Professor.” Mocking, even as he holds back a smile and turns another page.

“Could explain why you aren’t getting anywhere.” Hint of amusement in his voice.

Which deserves a look for being voiced out loud, even if Dean realises that Sam picked up on his deliberate stupidity and is taking it in his stride. Running with it instead of bitching at him about inappropriate humour. Which is the usual route for them lately.

“I’m just saying.” Sam’s smiling. Actually smiling so Dean’s definitely not going to argue, well, not much anyway.

“Gets lost in translation anyway.” Dean waves it off. “It’s a silver blade with a jade handle, not like anyone’s mistaking that for traditional Mayan cutlery.”

“Mayan’s didn’t use cutlery Dean.” Voice overly condescending but Sam’s still smiling, still playing along. So Dean’s not complaining, not complaining at all. He’s missed this. Missed the back and forth banter.

“What? They just ate with their hands?” Sounding disgusted. Completely ridiculous considering just how much food he eats with his hands. Burgers, fries, borittos.

“Yeah, most likely.” Sam cracks open the spine on his book and turns his own musty page.

“Heathens.” Smirking.

“Kind of reminds me of someone I know.” Sam always did have to have the last word.


	15. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam really needs to get some sleep.

Sam’s mainlining coffee like it’s going out of style but Dean’s not sure if it’s going to make any difference, actually he’s pretty much certain it’s not going to make any difference. Because Sam’s eyelids are drooping and his shoulders are slumping and he hasn’t turned a page in ten minutes. Dean can only watch as Sam’s eyes read the same paragraph over and over again.

“Dude maybe you should just lay down, try to get some sleep.” Which gets him a jolt and Sam staring at him baffled, then a sharp head shake and a frown. “I’m not going anywhere.” Trying to be reassuring.

He knows why Sam is avoiding sleep, hell if Lucifer was invading his dreams he’d be avoiding sleep like the plague too, but Sam’s starting to look glassy eyed and that greyish pale tinge is getting worse.

They’ve both been up since last night. Sam got a few hours but Dean’s had none. Neither of them tried to get any sleep after Sam had his shower and decided he’d rather do research. Dean can understand why so he figured he’d stay up with him, he’s had sleep in the past few days, he can handle missing one. Figured that Cas would come back. But Cas didn’t come back. Not last night, not this morning, it’s late afternoon now and he still hasn’t returned.

Which is starting to make Dean worry. He called his cell again but it just went straight through to his voice mail. All he could do was leave another message. Tell Cas he was starting to get seriously worried here and even if he didn’t want to see him, could he please, for the love of God call back.

“First sign you’re dreaming I’ll wake you.” Dean promises Sam.

“No, I’m fine.” Barely paying attention now.

“Right. That’s why you haven’t eaten all day and are staring into that book like it holds the secrets of the universe.”

“I said I’m fine.” Tone getting stringent.

“No, you’re not.”

“Dean.” Eyes tight even as he stares harder at the words in front of him. “I’m fine.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you’re fine Sam.” Voice quiet but demanding.

Sam finally looks up and stares at him. Mouth tightening.

“I’m fine.” Which is a bald faced lie and he can’t believe Sam just said it.

That, right there, is half the fucking problem with Sam. He lies. Can’t, no _won’t_ tell him the truth to save his own life.

“Fine.” Snapping and going back to his own book.

They aren’t getting anywhere. There’s nothing in these books about that _knife_. Thinking it loudly just in case Sam can hear it. Petty and ridiculous. Knife! Which is infantile and oh so childish but christ Sam can be such a dick sometimes. He tries to help and what does he get? A fucking LIE!

The book in his hands slams shut as he vents his frustration.

What the fuck is he supposed to do here? How the hell can he make things right if Sam won’t even talk to him? Is happier to lie to him than admit he needs help. Some things never change. Bitter, girly fucking sigh.

“What crawled up your ass?” And Sam has the nerve to look at him baffled, like he really doesn’t know.

“You’re kidding right?” Dean cannot believe he just asked him that. Like he doesn’t already know, is completely oblivious to just how much of a fucking liar he is. How much he’s cutting Dean off and refusing to let him in. Let him help him for Christ’s sake.

Sam just stares at him clueless. Tiny furrows appearing between his eye brows.

“You fucking lie Sam.” Finger jabbing into the table top. “Just as easy as you fucking breathe, you lie.”

“What? Where the hell did that come from?” Head jerking back abruptly. Blinking, clueless.

“You know this fresh start idea of yours? It’s bullshit. All of it’s bullshit if you’re going to lie Sam.”

“Seriously Dean, what the hell?” Starting to frown harder now, lines forming across his forehead.

“Dude you’re not fine. Look at you.” Hand waving to indicate his appearance. “You’re grey. You haven’t turned that page in five damn minutes and...”

“Ever stop to think it’s because I found something?” Superior condescension which just...Then Sam’s words sink in.

“What?” Tirade short circuiting.

“Yeah.” Part confusion, part annoyed. “It says here: ‘and the jaguar gave forth the tool of appeasement...’”

“So?” Because like that means anything at all, refusing to give up this fight.

“The Mayan’s made sacrifices to appease their gods.” Like it’s obvious and he can’t believe Dean isn’t getting this.

“And that links to Cas’ dagger how?” Bristling at Sam’s tone.

“It goes on. ‘and the tooth of the jaguar shone no matter how much blood fell from it.’”

“Tooth. Right. I see the connection.” Utilising sarcasm because, no he doesn’t get it. Tooth? Is Sammy serious? A tooth?

“Stop being a jerk and think about it.” Rolling his eyes. “Traditional Mayan daggers are made of stone Dean, they wouldn’t have ‘shone’ no matter how clean they were.”

“So this is our dagger then?” Eyes widening slightly. Suddenly hopeful. It’s the first solid lead they’d found for this thing.

“Most likely. The story comes from the right region.”

“Does it say anything else?” Mind side stepping to business.

“Just that the jaguar came to them in the form of a man...” Sam sounds resigned which isn’t a good sign but hang on...

“Wait, what?” Suddenly freezing. “The form of a man?”

“It’s not uncommon for them to refer to jaguars as men. It’s probably due to some supernatural creature that lived in the area, some form of shapeshifter or werejag...”

“A man?” Making sure he has Sam’s attention before laying the bait. “Like a meat suit type man?”

And he watches as the idea sinks down into Sam’s sleep deprived skull. Watches as his eyes finally go wide.

“You think _God_ sent an angel down to hand over the dagger?” Shock mixed with disbelief. “But...Why would he do that?”

“That’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn’t it?” Leaning back to watch Sam try to figure it out. He has no clue but it’s fun to watch Sam try.

“But Cas seemed to think God just left it there. Like he somehow forgot about it.” Sam counters instead.

“A jade handled, silver dagger that looks _just_ like it belongs there?” Daring Sam to discard that fact.

“Except for the silver blade.” And finally Sam’s nodding, considering, thinking about it.

“Exactly.”

“You think God left it there.” Almost certain that’s what Dean is thinking.

It’s hard to tell sometimes and Sam’s so out of practice but it seems the logical conclusion.

“I think it’s pretty freaking weird.”

It’s pretty hard to disagree with Dean about that one.

He gets blindsided by a yawn but this time Dean doesn’t say anything, doesn’t call him on the fact he’s so obviously tired and in need of sleep. He doesn’t want to sleep. Doesn’t want to go back to that place where Lucifer is continuing to force him to fight. Where his words are soft and persuasive. Telling him how much better things will be. No more fighting, no more worrying about Dean, about how much he doesn’t trust him.

It’s only late afternoon, it’s not night yet, he can keep waiting. Stay awake.

They still haven’t heard back from Cas. He knows Dean is getting antsy, knows he’s getting really worried. Sam’s worried. It’s easier to...and god he hates himself, but now that Cas isn’t following Dean around it’s easier to focus on what they need to do, on this research and ignore the seething jealousy, the flares of rage. He presses his fingertips into his eyes and tries not to think about just how much of a jealous asshole that makes him.

Especially since Cas offered to do this for him. Offered to protect him from Lucifer and even went through with it when Gabriel tried to dissuade him. Explained just how badly it could go. He’d like to think it’s because Cas has forgiven him, realised he is sorry and was trying to do the right thing despite his bad decisions. But he’s more inclined to believe it was Cas proving something. What? He doesn’t know but he has a feeling Cas is starting to fall.

Which makes this failure all the worse. Unless Gabriel sabotaged the sigil, Cas has already fallen pretty far. Further than even Cas thought. Unless this was a test, proving to himself he could still do this. Is still an angel. It has to be hard standing next to Gabriel who still has all his grace and powers. That has to sting a little.

Gabriel doesn’t seem to have lost anything and Cas... He wonders if Dean’s worked it out. What Cas lost for him. Because he rebelled. Because Dean asked. On one hand he hopes Dean understands, because Cas gave up everything but on the other he hopes Dean is oblivious. Because if Dean understands, he’s just going to want Cas around more often. Is going to feel bad. Dean might not like to show it but he knows what Dean’s like. He’s not a complete asshole like he wants people to think. Well, not all the time.

“Sammy?”

“How’d the spell go?” Starting a new conversation.

Opening his eyes again he comes face to face with Dean’s frustration. He should sleep and eventually he will, but for now he’s going to keep waiting. Keep hoping...He can’t believe it, can’t believe he’s even thinking it, sure as hell isn’t going to say it out loud, but he’s hoping that Gabriel will return.

Hoping that Gabriel comes back and is still willing to do the sigil. Despite all the times they’ve told him no. Despite all the times they’ve told him to go to hell. That they can’t trust him. Won’t trust him. Refuse to believe a word his says. He still can’t but he’s desperate and they have no other choice. There is no other way.

He can’t do this again. He can’t, he just...He knows what’s going to happen and maybe that was Gabriel’s plan. Maybe he deliberately left him alone last time. After he made it clear he didn’t want his help. Left Sam to go through it all, just so he knows exactly what’s coming, exactly how bad it’s going to be. How weak and close to giving in he’s going to get. How close to saying that word. Just so he can save Sam. Stop him from saying yes. Save him then go ahead with his original plan. Whatever that plan is.

“Spell didn’t work.” Dean’s voice is laced with anger. A quick glance up and his jaw is tight. “But Bobby’s working on another one, should have it ready later today. We might need to go out and get some things but other than that it’ll be ready for tonight.”

“Have you found another case yet?” Because he wants something else to focus on, something else that reminds him what he’s fighting to save.

Dean gives him a look like he can’t be serious.

“We can’t stop Dean.” Because they can’t. They have to keep on going. Keep moving. They’ve already been here too long.

“There’s still that case in Colorado.” Dean slowly concedes.

Sam doubts he really wants to but even Dean has to see that it’s necessary. That they can’t stay here, they have to move on. Even if Dean wants to wait where Cas can find him. Bitter flare of resentment. Then a crushing weight of loathing. Even after last night and knowing what Cas has lost because of his bad decisions, he’s still pathetically jealous. He just can’t seem to stop. He’s not even sure he wants to anymore. Which is far more frightening and worse.

Which is why he knows he needs to stop this. Needs to get Lucifer away from his dreams. Out of his head before he says something incredibly stupid. Something incredibly irreversible like yes.

“The witches?” Trying to remember but it’s so hard to think right now.

“Yeah, I checked and there’s been three more suspicious deaths.”

“In two days?” Has it been two days, he can’t remember, it’s so hard to keep track.

Dean nods quietly.

“Then we need to get moving, we need to...” Reaching out to pack the books up. They can study them on the road.

“Hey, slow down there Sam, you’re not in any shape to...” Dean’s hand reaching out and resting on his arm.

“Dean.” Protesting and pulling away, almost overbalancing, dropping the books and leaning on his elbows against the table. He’s...the rooms slightly shifting.

“No. And I mean it Sam. We’re not going anywhere. At least not today.”

“You’re waiting for Cas.” Jealousy surging.

He watches Dean’s jaw go tight.

“We can leave in the morning, after we both get some sleep.” But to Sam’s surprise he’s grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” He’s suddenly on his feet and the room’s swaying, slowly spinning.

Dean’s arm is suddenly across his shoulders, chest holding up his side. It’s only an instant later. An instant? Dean moved across the room that fast?

“Come on Sasquatch. I think you need to lay down.” Heaving Sam sideways and around his toppled chair.

He toppled over his chair?

“M’not sleeping.” And dear god, is he slurring?

“Whatever. Just lay down and shut up then.” Guiding him towards his bed.

His feet are barely moving, not because he doesn’t want them to but because he can’t seem to get them to move in a straight line. At least not in time with Dean’s. Carpet sliding, shifting, moving. Making the trip across the floor to the bed painfully slow. How the hell did he end up like this? He was fine, felt fine a few minutes ago. Minutes or was it hours? Hours? Or was it...Christ. It almost felt like the time he drank. Fuck was he...? Did Dean...

“You drug my coffee?” Disbelief trying to infiltrate his words.

“You need to sleep.” And Dean sounds so determined.

“Seriously.” In disbelief. Then suddenly fears returning, because he can’t...Lucifer is waiting. “I can’t...Dean I...” Fighting, slumped against his brother, trying to use his height to his advantage.

“Sammy I’m staying. I won’t let that bastard hurt you. Just go to sleep.”

“I...Dean...” Because Dean doesn’t understand. He doesn’t get it, Lucifer is going to be waiting. Waiting and he’s going to be stuck, trapped...

But Dean’s putting pressure on his weak knees and helping him down onto the mattress. He wants to tell him...fingers fumbling against Dean’s jacket...he can’t...

“Just...” Dean gets him onto his side and covers him with a blanket. It’s a good thing his boots are already off or Dean would be stripping him too. Or maybe Dean made sure of that before he drugged him. He can’t believe Dean drugged him.

“Dean I...”

“Sorry Sammy.” And he sounds so sincere.

Sincerity. Fear. Then darkness.

***

“It’s good to see you again Sam.”


	16. Lucifer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Sam have a chat.

“It’s good to see you again Sam.” Lucifer is smiling, looking genuinely pleased. Way too pleased.

Pleased enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Make his breath hitch and his heart pause. Don’t panic. Just walk away. Just find the door in this washed out, dirty grey room and leave. Run. Start with the fighting. The endless fighting till he wakes up again. Vampire. Rugaru. Wendigo.

It’s the same room Lucifer has created for the last few times now. The lack of furniture familiar, the place where Lucifer likes to lean against the wall. Arms crossed. Casual and relaxed, body at ease. Like he has all night. Like he’s sure tonight Sam will stop and listen.

The single light bulb hanging from the ceiling is bare, the light seems pale but the dull light illuminates the entire room. Lets Sam see into every corner. The dirt lining the bare wood floor, the cracks all up and down the wall papered walls. Ceiling low with faded water marks, ornate cornices holding up spider webs but no spiders. He’s wondered a few times if this is a real place, a real room. If this is where Lucifer is. If he’s deliberately daring him to search. But Sam isn’t going to look for him. He’s going to run and hide.

Lucifer isn’t moving. Isn’t going to stop him from trying to leave. He knows that, knows exactly how this is going to go. Lucifer never tries to stop him, just punishes him for doing so. Which leaves Sam to turn in a slow circle, the door’s behind him this time. It’s the only thing that changes. Lucifer may not move, neither do the windows but the door does and Lucifer has made him walk right past him, close enough to touch, just to get out of this room.

This time all he has to do is back away slowly, turn quietly and head for the door.

He just needs to keep his mouth shut. Don’t antagonise the devil. He’s learnt that much. The more he says, the more angry Lucifer becomes. The more he mouths off the worse it will be. Not that Lucifer ever shows it, his face always a slightly amused mask, but the sheer number of monsters on the other side of the door are always in direct proportion to Sam’s antagonistic remarks. The ferocity with which they attack makes his displeasure pointedly clear.

Inside this room Lucifer is always polite, even jokes with him but out there. God he just wishes this were over. Wishes...but he can’t wish for that. He has to keep on fighting. Has to fix this mess. He started it and he’s going to stop it. Or at the very least not make it worse.

He reaches for the vibrantly gold door handle, round and smooth in his hand, one of the only points of colour to ever appear in this room, and turns it. It turns easily, smoothly. Turns and turns. And keeps turning. But the despite the lock being unlatched, tongue free of the groove, the door doesn’t open. Heart rate speeding he starts to tug on the handle. This has never happened before. He can feel the door heavy in his hand as it vibrates on its hinges with every pull.

It’s not real, none of this is real but if he didn’t know that, if he wasn’t so sure, he’d think it was. The smell of old wood, musty, undefinable stains.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that Sam.” Lucifer is smiling, he doesn’t need to turn around to see it. “But it looks like something’s wrong.” Tone almost apologetic, almost.

Suddenly cold, swallowing hard, limbs refusing to move. He can’t turn, won’t turn around. Has to force himself to stand still, refuse to look back. Because he can’t listen. Can’t risk listening and won’t give Lucifer the satisfaction.

“I get the feeling you’ve been drinking.” And he can hear it as Lucifer starts pacing. “Maybe you thought you could avoid me if you bypassed the usual levels of sleep. I’m sorry to break it to you Sam but you can’t keep me out.” Echoes whispering, taunting. “And now you’re locked in.”

Dean you stupid motherfucker! Palm hitting the door and making it slam against its frame. He’s going to kill him when he gets out of here. When he wakes up. If he wakes up. Damnit! He’s trapped. Panic hitting. No. Just...no. Forcing it down. This is what Lucifer wants. He wants him scared, not thinking straight.

“I’m sorry Sam. Not that I don’t applaud your efforts.”

“Just shut up.” Snarling.

Daring to be angry but still refusing to turn around. Eyes closing as he tries to get his temper under control. He can’t afford to lose it. Can’t afford to say something very, very unfortunate. Just remember to breathe and ignore anything Lucifer has to say. He doesn’t want to hear it. Won’t risk listening to it. Listening to his lies. To his promises. Promises of peace, when what he really means is destruction.

“What’s the matter Sam? It’s not like I’m going to hurt you.” And he sounds so reasonable, slightly amused and calm.

“You think I don’t know what you do to me?” Surge of anger flaring again. “What you make me go through every night?”

“You really think that’s my doing?” Genuinely surprised.

He glances over his shoulder to see Lucifer’s blinking shock.

“You set me free Sam, let me walk the earth again. I want to give you everything.”

Sam flinches and Lucifer actually looks sad.

“The only one doing any torturing around here is you Sam.”

“Why would I...” Suddenly turning, another flare of anger rushing through him. Bright and fierce and...

Lucifer just raises an eye brow.

“No.” Shaking his head even as a horrible thought is forming. “I wouldn’t do this.” Determined, refusing to believe it. He wouldn’t do this, it can’t be him.

“You’re so conflicted Sam.” Sighing softly.

“No, it’s not true.” Holding onto that thought and gripping it tight.

He wouldn’t, wouldn’t do this to himself. He knows...he wouldn’t...he just...it has to be Lucifer. It can’t be him.

“I hate to break it to you, but it is.” Lucifer sounds so sad. “All the fighting, all that rage. You think you deserve to be punished.”

“Get out of my head.” Breathless, eyes suddenly stinging.

He’s lying. Lucifer is lying. The fighting is Lucifer’s fault. Lucifer makes him do it. Not him. It’s not him. He’s not doing it to himself.

Lucifer’s hands rise slowly, palms up, expression gentle.

“I don’t blame you Sam.”

“Shut up.” Getting desperate.

“I am sorry.” So genuine.

“Shut Up!” First tear falling and he roughly wipes it away.

“I promised I’d never lie to you.” Pressing his advantage, feet scuffing ever so softly on the bare wood floor. Steps bringing him closer.

“Stay away from me.” Stepping back, voice cracking.

But he has nowhere else to go. Still pressed against the door.

“I’m so sorry Sam.” So sincere. “If you say yes to me I can make it all go away. No more pain. No more torturing yourself for something you were destined to do. You couldn’t avoid it. None of this is your fault. It’s your destiny Sam. You were always going to set me free. Just as you’re going to say yes.”

“I’ll never say yes to you!”

“I’m sorry Sam, but you will.” At least he’s stopped moving closer. Feet paused halfway across the floor. “Maybe not now, maybe not next time, but you will. Some things are just meant to happen. I know you’ll say yes because I’ve already seen it. And so has Dean, why do you think he can’t trust you anymore?”

Which...stomach sinking. He knew. Lucifer isn’t saying anything he doesn’t already know. That Dean hasn’t already told him.

“I’m...” Lucifer begins talking again.

“You think Dean didn’t tell me?” Suddenly back on solid ground. “I hate to break it to you but Dean and I are...”

Lucifer shrugs it off like it means nothing, like it doesn’t interfere with his plan. The shrug seems to break a blood vessel, because suddenly there’s tiny drops of blood dripping from his nose.

Lucifer watches Sam as he stares, watches as he tries not to notice the smell. The sudden tang of metal, the iron, vibrant coppery smell. Too much, too sharp, too obvious for such a small amount of blood. He shouldn’t be able to smell it from across the room. Shouldn’t be able to taste it on his tongue. Sharp and pure and...head shaking. Trying to breathe past the taste and the smell.

Bright red splashes fall to the dusty light grey of his shirt. Three drops, suddenly trickling, four. Deep crimson red waterfall. Till there’s a tiny island of red growing wider. Stark colour against all that grey, highlighted in suddenly sharp light.

Lucifer lets him watch it for a moment before wiping his bleeding nose with the back of his peeling hand. Smearing neon colour over his grey, dying skin.

“Just...” And he’s breathing hard, craving suddenly flaring. “Just stay away from me.”

He can do this. He can deal with it. But it’s worse than seeing Cas’ blood. Worse than knowing it’ll make him sick but still wanting to taste it anyway. The blood of an angel will be just as powerful. As powerful as a demon. Maybe even more so. The siren song screaming, whispering in his head despite his disgust. Disgust at himself. But he can’t help it. Remembers the power it gave him, feeling like he could help, save people, be in control. Even as he knows he’s going to be in control of nothing if he leans forward and takes a lick.

“I’m not moving any closer.” Lucifer reminds him lightly. “I haven’t moved an inch but you’ve taken quite a few steps towards me.”

“I haven’t...” But the door handle is no longer under his hand. His feet have shifted, moved him, taken him at least five paces closer. Suddenly frozen. “Stay away from me and get out of my head.” Trying to sound determined but his voice is breathless, desperation surging.

He didn’t even notice. Didn’t even notice he’d moved. Didn’t realise he’d even let go of the door.

Lucifer is the ultimate demon, still an archangel. Either way he’ll be powerful. Maybe give him enough power to overcome... Internal voice screaming, shoving the urges down. He can’t! He won’t! He refuses to do it! He won’t be that person again!

Even as rational thought reminds him that he’s dreaming. Just dreaming. None of this is real. But it feels so real. Blood so red and dripping...

“It’s alright Sam, I understand.” Soft and gentle.

Lucifer finally takes out an equally light grey and washed out handkerchief to carefully dab at his nose. Soaking up the trickle of blood. Slowly wiping the colour off his skin, removing the neon stain from his hand. Taking all the fresh blood away. But the island of blood on his shirt is still crimson. Copper tang on his tongue, gaze catching on his shirt, so eye catching he can’t look away.

“I think it’s time we had a little talk Sam.”

“I have nothing to discuss with you.” Forcing his eyes up to meet Lucifer’s. They fall down but he drags them back up again. “The answer is no and it isn’t going to change.” He wishes he could sound more final. Less shaken and uncertain with the smell of blood still bright in his nose.

He isn’t going to do this. Isn’t going to say yes. He just has to keep saying it. Repeating it like a mantra. He doesn’t want to say yes. Doesn’t want to be a meat suit. Doesn’t want to let Lucifer in. Doesn’t want to give Lucifer the ultimate vessel. Doesn’t want to force his own brother to kill him. Doesn’t want any of this. Just wants to keep saying no.

“Don’t you want this to all be over? Don’t you just wish...” And Lucifer pauses to slide closer. “Don’t you just wish you could make it all end? Fix what you’ve done?”

He refuses to say the word. Not even in this sense.

“Saying yes to you won’t do that.” He can’t believe Lucifer is using this temptation. “You’re going to destroy everything.”

“Is that what everyone told you?” Quietly thoughtful. “I’m not going to destroy everything Sam.”

“Right, just a few billion people.” Snide disbelief colouring his words.

Lucifer just gives a slightly amused shrug.

“I probably will.” And when Sam can’t keep the shock of his face. “I did promise you no lies.”

Which makes him swallow again. Because he did and if he’s happy to admit that, that he’s planning to kill every human, it makes him wonder if it really is all in his head. If it really is him creating the monsters to fight. A just penance for what he’s done.

“It’ll be peaceful Sam.” Hands pressing together and pointed at him. “I’m just preserving my father’s last and greatest creation. Just for you and me and my brothers.”

“You mean the angels?” Eye brows rising. He can’t believe he’s hearing this.

“Once it’s over and everything’s peaceful again they’ll see. We all just want this to be over Sam. All of us. You know what that’s like don’t you? To be sick of all the fighting, never having a moment to rest.”

He can’t listen, he can’t allow Lucifer to make sense.

“Don’t you want that Sam? To be able to rest? To be able to have some peace at last?”

There has to be another way out of here.

Every wall is uniformly grey. The wall paper has faded. Patterns barely more than hints of dark lines against lighter grey shades. There is no colour here. No colour except what Lucifer allows. The blood. Eyes darting over and it’s still there. The copper tang gets brighter, sharper, almost heavy against his tongue. Which is why he has to look away. Swallow hard. He needs to get out. Has to get out of here. This is a dream but he can’t...it’s too much. He has to get out.

Wrench his eyes over to the door handle. Shiny and gold. Pace over to the windows, push the curtains aside to find a locked window, the lock an almost neon green glow. Behind him Lucifer stops midsentence.

“You won’t want to try that.” Warning softly.

“Right.” Which just convinces him he will.

It doesn’t take much to pry open the lock and force open the window. The rush of crisp cold air is a shock. Cold as ice but refreshing, a hint of promised rain.

“I’m serious Sam, that’s no way out.” But he’s not getting any closer, not trying to stop him.

Sam glances at him over his shoulder, catches a glimpse of crimson, before sticking his head out.

Outside the world is vibrant and full of colour. Old, red brick apartment block across from a larger, yellow building. Dark sky with hints of blue between the grey. Low hanging rain clouds hovering over all the buildings. Water off in the distance. And familiarity kicks in. He’s been here before. Knows this skyline. Sleek, modern glass high rises close to a smaller Empire State style building. Detroit. They’re in Detroit.

Which makes him recoil, step back into the grey dusk. This is a real place. Probably where Lucifer is. Or will be. Part of him wants to remember everything, the building of white stone down the road. The exact angle of the water from here. But he knows he can’t come here. That would be tempting fate and he’s not going to tempt fate. He’s going to turn tail and run. Run and hide and defy it.

“Have you considered what it’ll be like when it’s over Sam? It’ll be peaceful. Dean will be in Heaven. There’ll be no more Hell. You’ll be at peace at last, no more Hunting, no more...”

And he sticks his head out the window again, loses the sound of Lucifer’s voice, the overwhelming tease of blood, in the rushing of the wind and takes another look around. There aren’t any window ledges. No convenient window sill. No easy way down. He can’t see any way down but...he glances back into the room. Crimson spot almost glowing and he doesn’t want to think about what Lucifer is saying.

Lucifer is looking genuinely concerned now. But he’s asleep, this isn’t real, this is just a dream. If he jumps he won’t be hurt. Falling in dreams and dying isn’t possible. Dying from the sudden stop is just a myth. Not that there isn’t some truth in every myth, but not this one.   
One leg through the window and his head swims. He’s at least ten stories high and if this was real he wouldn’t survive it. Deep breath, just keep breathing. It’s not real. None of it is real and he needs to get out of here. Away. Away from the blood and stupid impulses, desperate cravings. Away from Lucifer. Another leg and he’s holding onto the window frame, facing back into the room and looking right up at Lucifer.

Lucifer who’s suddenly much closer, standing just on the other side of the window, looking triumphant. He has a moment for his eyes to go wide, to wonder what the hell he’s done, what the hell he’s doing, before there’s bright light, his fingers go limp and he starts to fall.


	17. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's starting to question his 'drug Sam' plan when things spiral out of his control.

Dean’s avidly watching but Sam hasn’t made a sound, hasn’t twitched or flailed or cried out. Is finally, quietly sleeping. Which is a relief. No more nightmares, no more Lucifer. Sleeping peacefully. He isn’t convinced this is the best plan but...Sam was getting worse. Five days with only a few hours sleep. Sam needed to rest. He needed it. Needed it but refused to listen to him. Refused to try, trust that he could keep him safe. Wake him if he started to fight things in his sleep.

He knows Sam is going to be angry with him. Knows Sam is probably going to want to hit him at the very least but it’s the only thing he had left. Cas hasn’t come back and he isn’t counting on Gabriel. Definitely not counting on Gabriel. Desperation makes him do stupid things, he knows that, but this isn’t stupid, this is necessary. Sighing and watching Sammy breathe. If he’s honest with himself he knows this is stupid. Knows his knee jerk, save Sammy reaction is alive and probably going to kick him in the butt, but so far so good. Sammy is sleeping. No nightmares and...

Thunder and lightning strike with a crack. Windows rattling, overhead lights exploding. Throwing the entire room into darkness except for the bedside light closest to Sam.

His first instinct is to go for the colt, the knife, anything but it’s Gabriel. Which doesn’t instantly put him at ease but relief floods through him. If he’s back then Cas can’t be far behind. Cas who he plans to talk to, try to get through to, prove that he’s sorry, that he...

“What have you done?!” Voice desperate and demanding.

Gabriel’s eyes are hazel overlaid with gold, dark and sharp and he isn’t just vibrating with his usual low level hum, he’s practically glowing. Shadows of wings flash against the ceiling with the next lightning strike. Sudden fierce hatred cut between shadows and white light.

Which is the only thing Dean gets to notice before he’s flying through the air, across the room, landing with a sharp crack. Landing against the wall, before sudden silence. Just incredible pressure, harsh breathing and then there’s nothing but pain. Ribs stabbing, hips throbbing and the back of his head screaming pain. He just...Gabriel...why would he...Better yet where’s Cas? He’s going to need Cas if he’s to...No! Struggling as Gabriel moves towards Sam.

In the instant it takes him to swallow the pain Gabriel is hovering over his brother’s sleeping form. The moment he opens his mouth to tell him to go to hell he discovers his jaw is sealed shut, duct tape across his lips just to be sure.

Even if he wanted to struggle harder the pain spearing up and down his spine is enough to keep him from moving. He’s hurt. Every breath is agony, every time he tries to cry out is another flash of pain. He can only watch as Gabriel sits on the edge of Sam’s bed. Obscuring his view and leaving his heart racing, adrenaline wiping away some of the agony as he watches shadows through lightning, Gabriel’s hands touching his brother. Hurting his brother. Thrill of fear making him struggle despite the sudden, horrific pain. He can barely hear the murmur of soft Aramaic over the high whine of what can only be the angel’s true voice. Ears suddenly bleeding.

No! Fighting, kicking, screaming out in pain.

Castiel appears as the windows start to shake again. Thunder splits the sky overhead just as lightning sends the room into stark relief. Everything black is suddenly white and he’s deaf long enough to miss the first of Sam’s gasps.

Somewhere around the third he starts to struggle again. He doesn’t care if his body is broken and in pain, that bastard is hurting his brother and he has to DO something. Stop him. Help Sam. Which would work better if he could actually move instead of hover three feet off the floor, pinned against the wall.

What he can’t make sense of, what he doesn’t understand is why Cas is completely ignoring him. Won’t even turn to acknowledge him. Is staring at the bed and Gabriel and whatever he’s doing to Sam. Not stepping in, not stopping him. Just standing there and...Angry, narrow eyes finally turn to stare. Intense blue glowing in the sudden half light.

The lightning outside is frequent enough to send flares of light across his face. Black shadows, white cheeks, sharp contrast at forehead and jaw line. Blue eyes furious.

Which is the moment Dean starts to reconsider everything. Reconsider why Gabriel and Cas are here. What Gabriel may be doing over by Sam’s bed. The Aramaic is rising, falling, rising again. And there’s a soft glow flowing from what Dean assumes is Gabriel’s hand on his brothers chest.

He’s fucked up. Something went wrong. He thought he could keep Lucifer at bay. Thought he would know when Sam needed his help, but he’s starting to wonder if all he’s done is deliver Sam directly into the devils hands.

***

Falling. Freezing cold. Darkness. Falling. Lucifer smiling. Lucifer’s plan. He fell for Lucifer’s plan. He...Gasping. Moaning. Crying. There’s colour, bright light, colour. He can’t believe he’s breathing. Eyes staring, wide, frantically searching. Familiar filthy walls. Painted walls. Painted peeling walls. Colour and dark and light. He’s here. Not back there. Not back with...He escaped. He left. But falling. Tumbling, turning, darkness, falling...

Fingers soft on his face, turning his head gently.

“Sam.”

He can’t...can’t be here, he’s falling. Arms flailing, pin wheeling, falling...

“Just breathe.” Voice vibrating, low and smooth against his spine.

Colours sharp. Hazel eyes, gold, almost glowing.

“Calm down.” Deep, melodious voice.

Power warm and deep and pooling. Heat against his chest. He can’t...he must be...falling...he fell...

He can’t, he’s...Suddenly swallowing. Throat tight. Swallowing hard.

The hand on his cheek is smooth, without calluses, so warm. Not cold. Not cold? Frowning. Not falling? He’s not falling?

“You’re safe.” Thumb stroking lightly over his jaw. “You’re awake.” Tone very matter of fact.

Hazel eyes glowing. Gold and glowing. Soft and...

“Gabriel.” Low but urgent. “You need to stop now.”

He knows that voice. Familiar voice. That’s Castiel.

The hazel eyes are still staring down into his, not looking away, not letting him look away. They finally blink, gold suddenly gone.

“Right.” Sighing reluctant, hand pulling away. He doesn’t want the hand to pull away, wants it to stay, wants it to keep him here, safe, warm, together. Not flying off, falling again...“Wouldn’t want him lit up like a June bug.”

“We must go.” Castiel isn’t in his view but Sam can hear him.

Hear him but he can’t stop staring up, up into hazel. Hazel that was just gold. Thunder is rolling. Lightning striking but he wishes... Wait. What? Head clearing. Gold? Hazel eyes?

“Gabriel?” Shock heavy in the simple word.

“Took you long enough.” Almost smiling through eyes filled with too much concern.

Concern? He was falling. Falling, flying...Lucifer...Why? What happened? Heart suddenly racing. What happened? Why was he falling? What is Gabriel doing here? Why is Cas? Where is Dean?

“Gabriel.” And Cas is sounding urgent.

“Right. Hate to do this to you kiddo but you really need to get some sleep.”

“No. No I...” Trying to get up but nothing is moving. None of his muscles are responding. Which just makes his heart race faster. He’s missing something. Something vital. Something happened. Something is terribly wrong.

“You need to take it easy Sam.” Suddenly serious, one hand resting on his shoulder, the other back on his face. “Just lay still.”

“I can’t move!” Panic surging.

“That’s because you almost died.” Soft and serious.

“What! No I...” Pupils dilating. “No I...I was only dreaming that I...”

“Jumped off a ten story building, out of a plane, out a window? Trust me kid, you fell. And it almost killed you.”

“How...? That’s just a myth...”

“Myth? Uh ha...anyone ever tell you that some urban myths are true?” Smiling, eye brow rising. “Really kid, I figured you for smarter than this.”

“But...” Struggling to move again, sit up, anything but lay down.

“Just trus...” A resigned sigh, eyes lowering as he obviously changes his words. Then eyes sliding back up, piercing. “Lay still. You need to get some rest.” Quietly serious again.

Rest. Rest that means sleep and sleep, that means Lucifer.

“No!” Panicking. He can’t, he just got away, he just...Died? Why would Lucifer...He’s his vessel. If he dies then...

“I don’t have time to explain.” Frustrated. “For once in your life just trust me. Lucifer almost killed you, I saved your stupid soul and we need to go. Now. And you need to sleep.”

“But...”

“Sleep which I will make sure is protected.” Reassuring lightly, tone almost back to normal.

Silence. Thunder rolling.

“I promise.” Eyes direct and serious. “But you need to sleep.”

“Why haven’t you just knocked me out then?” And God he notices that even talking hurts. He’s already feeling weaker.

“Call me crazy but I’d like you to actually agree.”

“I won’t say it.” Thrill of fear. Is this real? Is this one of Lucifer’s tricks? The ultimate trick.

“Fine.” And Gabriel actually rolls his eyes but there’s a faint hint of a smile.

Something familiar and it suddenly occurs to him that Lucifer doesn’t know what Gabriel looks like. Which makes him open his mouth to say the simple word.

But the fingers on his cheek brush over his forehead before he can speak.

“Night, night Sam.”

And darkness descends again.

***

Which leaves Gabriel free to stand and turn slowly on the other Winchester. The one he still has pinned against the wall. Broken, bruised and bleeding.

“You stupid...” Low fury raging.

“We don’t have time for this.” Castiel stands between them.

But Gabriel isn’t moving.

“Gabriel. We must leave. We can’t stay here. Someone is going to notice what you’ve done and come looking. We need to leave.” Urging quietly.

Which is Dean’s cue to whimper in pain, bring Cas’ attention back to him. There’s blood in his mouth and he knows with his ribs hurting, that’s not a good sign.

“You need to heal him.” Cas doesn’t sound happy.

Dean’s not sure why, not even sure if he wants to know why. If it’s because healing him is going to slow them down or because Gabriel has really hurt him and he’s annoyed about it. And suddenly he really doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t know if Cas even gives a damn. What he’s done, he doesn’t know, but he knows enough to know he’s fucked up. Fucked up bad enough to enrage the Archangel and seriously piss off Cas.

And he still doesn’t know if Sam is actually okay. Doesn’t know if Gabriel got to him in time. Fixed him in time. Fixed whatever he’s done to hurt his brother. Can only hope everything is okay. Hope his brother is safe and healthy and not...he doesn’t even know what could have gone wrong. He doesn’t know anything and he can’t even open his mouth to ask.

Lightning strikes, thunder claps sharp and loud. Gabriel’s wings are flashing against the ceiling again. Gold starting to fill his eyes.

“Then why don’t you heal him.” Gabriel turns and leans down towards Sam.

“Because I can’t. I already tried.” Quietly reminding.

And Dean can’t believe he’s asking. They know, they all know Cas can’t heal him. If he could he’d have healed Bobby, so why would Gabriel ask...

“Fine, but he’s not coming with us.” Gabriel sounds determined. No more joking, no more playing tricks. Sounds...sounds exactly like an Archangel should sound, Dean realises. No more trickster, pure Archangel.

Which sends a spike of fear up his spine, trying to fight against him. Against the pressure holding him to the wall. He’s not taking Sam! That bastard is not taking Sam anywhere without him. Cas has to stop him, he has to, he can’t speak, can’t force him, can’t _do_ anything!

“No.” Cas’ voice quiet but determined.

One word enough to make Dean slump back in relief. Pain throbbing in his hips. He’s hurt bad, bad enough that if Gabriel doesn’t heal him he doubts he’s ever going to walk properly again. That’s if the blood in his mouth isn’t from a lung punctured by a broken rib. Because if it is and Gabriel refuses to heal him, he’ll be lucky to make it to the nearest hospital alive. They didn’t pick this motel for the decoré, they picked it because it’s far away from any town. That’s if he can even crawl to a phone or drive the car to get help.

Lightning strikes again but Cas stands his ground.

“We can’t leave him.” Gabriel stills but doesn’t turn around. So he tries another tact. “Sam will want to see him when he wakes again.”

Dean seriously doubts it but he can’t open his mouth to speak and he’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut at this point anyway. Not smart enough to keep his brother safe though. No, he’s the one who got him into this mess to begin with.

Finally Gabriel turns and an incomprehensible looks passes through his half golden eyes, which, what the hell? Since when do Gabriel’s eyes glow gold? Whatever the two angels have been doing since last night it’s left a lasting impression because Cas never stands up to Gabriel and now Gabriel is freaking glowing?

The sound of hail starts to pound outside. Not on his baby, not the Impala and wait, if they’re flying out of here...He starts to struggle. They can’t leave the Impala here.

Gabriel’s eyes narrow but Cas stands further in front of him, completely blocking him from view. Which honestly, from the looks he was giving him earlier, he didn’t expect. Expected something more along the lines of being smited out of existence for his stupidity. Because he is stupid. Something went wrong, and not just a little wrong. Something went horrifically wrong because he drugged Sam.

“Fine.” And he thinks maybe the Archangel just decided to fix him.

On the next flash of lightning Gabriel is suddenly closer, reaching up and touching his side. The rush of healing is excruciating and he’s screaming behind the tape, tearing his lips against it to let it out. Ribs remaking, hips healing, the back of his skull stops throbbing but he’s still hanging three feet in the air.

“You and I are going to have a little chat later Winchester.” Gaze fixing on his and holding it.

Which makes him almost swallow hard around relearning to breathe. Gasping air in, quick and fast through his nose. Lungs heaving. Pain still teasing at the edges of everywhere that was just healed. If he could he would glare but all he can do is let himself stare, eyes blinking. Then Gabriel is walking away, back to Sam.

“Can you follow?” Throwing the question over his shoulder.

The moment Cas touches him the power that held him against the wall releases and he’s slumping down, landing without grace on the floor. Cas didn’t even try to stop him. Help him. Just let him fall as he watches Gabriel gather up Sam carefully. Which is a weird sight, considering Sam’s almost twice the smaller angel’s size. But he does it effortlessly, holding Sam’s head carefully against his shoulder.

“We’ll follow.” Solemnly intoning.

Dean wants to ask about his car, about their weapons, the books, _everything_ but before he can reach for the duct tape the next crash of thunder comes, close on the heels of lightning and it’s loud enough to leave him momentarily deaf and blind. Completely paralysed for precious seconds. Seconds in which Gabriel transports them somewhere else.


	18. Gabriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's plan has consequences and Gabriel's the one to point them out to him.

The jolt of landing leaves him gasping, knees buckling, crumpling to carpeted floor, body still whispering pain. He expected another motel room, which he’s in, but nothing like this. He and Sam don’t check into places like this. For starters, the place is clean but not just that, it screams expensive. Pristine carpet, paint that’s not peeling off the walls. Colour coded forest green curtains, with light green bed sheets that’ve been turned down. Thick, dark brown blanket folded at the end of the bed. There’s even a damn framed print of orange butterflies on the wall by the main door. And the ac is actually working, pumping soft, warm air into the room, making his jacket too hot within seconds.

They better not be left with the bill for this place because they sure as hell can’t afford it. If they try to put this on a credit card it’ll be flagged quicker than...wait. Where’s Sam? There’s only a single queen sized bed centered against the far wall. No queen sized bed beside it with an unconscious Sam.

There’s no Sam, no Cas, no Gabriel. He’s utterly alone.

Eyes scanning the spacious room again for exits. Two doors, one window.

Okay, so Gabriel got them a two-room suite. The angel is probably still furious and he’s not exactly looking forward to dealing with him again. Even if Gabriel has a good reason, the worst possible reason. He can’t believe he hurt Sam. He just...he was trying to help and...staring at the connecting door. Avoiding Gabriel right now might be a good idea, he can definitely deal with that. Can deal with having Sammy in the next room, not like they haven’t had to do that before. Can handle it as long as he can see Sammy first. Can deal with everything, until he tries to open the second door and discovers it’s not budging.

He takes a moment to check that it’s not just stuck, or locked from the other side and waiting for his handy lock pick. But it’s more than that. The handle turns but nothing happens. No lock holding it in place. No bolt, nothing. It may rattle when he yanks on the handle but it’s not moving. So he starts to hammer on it, raising his voice. Politely demanding. He wants to see Sam. Wants to know that his brother is okay. He has to get to Sam. Has to make sure he’s okay. Can’t just sit here not knowing.

But no one from the adjoining room is answering. Which...okay, fine. Maybe he should just wait a moment, calm down. Let the angels have their moment. He trusts Cas, trusts him to take care of Sam. He just, needs to let them do whatever it is they’re doing. Hand rubbing over his mouth. Hopefully they’re doing whatever they need to help Sam. Hopefully Sammy is okay. Is perfectly fine and just resting. Safely resting, not hurt or sick from whatever the hell he did to him.

Which is when the self-loathing rolls in. He’s an idiot. Such an idiot to think he could bypass Lucifer, that he could stop him from getting to Sam. Because that has to be what happened, Lucifer must have done something. Done something because of his stupid plan.

He should have just waited. Should have just sat by and watched until Sam passed out again. He would have eventually. He just, has no fucking patience. He panics, he knows. Stopping to stare at the door, he thinks maybe he should stop panicking over Sam. Snorting. Like that’s ever going to happen. He tried that. Let Sammy walk away but the moment he came back he went back to panicking. Back to watching Sam. Waiting for the inevitable to happen. He doesn’t know how to stop doing this. It’s part of who he is, sometimes he thinks it’s the sum total of who he is. He’s spent his entire life watching over Sam. How the hell can he just turn that off?

But he has to do something. Has to stop. Has to somehow trust Sam to make the right decision. But the doubt comes rolling back in. Sam makes shitty decisions, he has good intentions, usually, apart from revenge. He was so certain he was right, so sure he was doing the right thing. Including the demon blood, Ruby, all the way up til he killed Lilith. Then he set Lucifer free and started the damn Apocalypse. But Sam has learned, he wants to believe that, he really does. Sam won’t...and yet he’s seen it with his own two eyes. Sam gave in. Said yes to Lucifer. And as much as Dean wants to change things, he just doesn’t believe he won’t say yes again.

So he paces back and forth across his room and tries to find his things. But they aren’t here. His duffle is gone. His weapons missing. The colt is definitely gone, as well as Ruby’s knife. He feels naked but he just has to sit here, wait. Cas won’t leave him unprotected. Because he is unprotected without any weapons. Hasn’t been this naked since he was six years old and Dad showed him how to use his first gun.

Maybe he should try to get some sleep, lay back on the bed and rest. He’s tired. God he’s tired. Two nights without sleep. He could use a nap but who’s he kidding. His brother’s in the next room with two fucking angel’s. One of which looked like it wanted to kill him and damn near did, and the other...Cas. He trusts Cas, really he does, he just. Wants out of here, wants to be next to Sam. Wants to know if he’s okay. Wants to know what the fuck is going on!

So the moment he sits on the bed his eyes are drawn back to the unmoving door. He just can’t let it go, he has to get out. So he tries the other door. The main exit. Tries to turn the handle, yanks on the door. Nothing. It won’t open. Fucking Trickster. Asshole. Bastard. Smacking his palm against the wall. He’s locked him in! But Gabriel also helped Sam. Trying to cling to that. Cradled Sam’s head against his shoulder like Dad used to do. So he should just...he should pipe down. Wait. Wait for a bastard who’s he’s absolutely certain has a master plan. Isn’t just helping to be helpful. Which, yeah, Dean may be paranoid but Gabriel’s earned it.

He just...needs to keep quiet, let Cas take care of Sam. He can trust Cas. Cas made Gabriel heal him. Made sure he wasn’t left behind. Sam is close by. Cas and apparently Gabriel, will take care of Sam. He just has to wait it out. Be patient. He’s already pacing again. Fuck patience. This is his brother, this is Sam!

So he keeps pacing and minutes turn into an hour and still no one comes. He rattles the door handle again, tries to un-stick the door from the frame. Hammers and yells and bellows, but there’s only silence. No one is listening. No one is letting him out. Letting him see his brother. Neither angel is even popping in to tell him to keep quiet.

Which is when he decides to call Bobby. But there’s no reception. Which seriously, what the fuck? He’s in a hotel. Outside he can see lights outside like pinpricks in the dark. So wherever they are it’s a major city. Not the middle of butt fuck nowhere. He should have reception. He should...

“Have you figured it out yet?”

Gabriel is suddenly standing just inside the main door.

“I want to see Sam.” Instantly demanding.

“I’m sure you do.” Almost smirking but there’s something else, something still screaming Archangel.

“I know you’re keeping me locked in here.” Not even trying to be polite.

“It’s perfect symmetry really.” Gabriel’s tone is light but his eyes are narrow. “What’s the matter Dean?” Taking one gliding step closer. “Don’t you like it? Don’t you like being locked up in a small room, unable to get out?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Anger dropping his voice low. “Just let me see Sam.”

But he’s starting to think he already knows. Trapped, symmetry. Whatever he did to Sam, he trapped him. Made it so he was unable to wake.

“Did you take even one second to think about what you were doing?” And his voice is low, lower than Dean’s ever heard it, lower than Dean ever imagined it could go. This isn’t the Trickster. This is the real Gabriel. Archangel. Warrior. Bringer of Justice and God’s voice.

His palms are suddenly sweaty, heartbeat starting to race. He doesn’t bother to answer, knows that no matter what answer he gives, it’s going to be torn to shreds. Knows that he has no answer good enough to justify what he’s done. Whatever mistake he’s made. He didn’t think. Or he thought he knew. And he was wrong. So very, very wrong. He knows that, knows he fucked up and he needs to see Sam.

“Is Sammy okay?”

“So glad to see you’re interested.” Tone trying for flippant but not quite getting there. Eyes too narrow, too fixed and boring into his.

“Is he _god damned_ okay!” Snarling angry.

Gabriel’s eyes get sharp, the gold starting to bleed through again. It’s not like Azazel. Azazel’s eyes were just an overlay of yellow. Gabriel’s eyes literally glow. Every fleck that’s normally brown, turns to gold. Molten gold and amber. Anger making them glow like a candle is lit behind them. Anger that makes Dean swallow.

“Lucifer trapped him in a room just like this one.” Tone completely, eerily calm.

Which makes his heart miss a beat.

“Just tell me you bastard.” Because he’s starting to get desperate. What the fuck has he done?

But Gabriel just paces towards the window.

“He somehow convinced your brother that it was safe to jump out a window.” And the window slides open, letting cold air and snow drift in. “Or your brother was trapped for so long, completely desperate he figured it was his only way out.”

“What?” Voice croaking. Then recovering because it makes no sense. Sam had been sleeping. Just sleeping. “That wouldn’t...You can’t die from a fall whilst dreaming. It’s just a myth.”

“My god it’s like an echo.” Gold suddenly dimming on an eye roll “And you mean to tell me you know everything? That there’s no truth in any myth or legend? Isn’t this what you do for a living? Kill myths, destroy legends? Apart from being a total pain in my ass and starting the Apocalypse?” Eyes shining gold again.

His jaw only tightens before Gabriel goes on, more Trickster bleeding through now than angel.

“Okay well it’s goes a little something like...You’re dreaming, but it’s not an ordinary dream.” And he’s actually pacing, never far from the window but no longer standing beside it, the threat of it is already patently clear. “You know genies do it, Tricksters can do it, angels can do it so no surprise, Lucifer can do it too.” Flicker of gold shining through then gone again. “So normally you do something incredibly stupid in a dream like oh I dunno, jump out of a plane, try to fly off a building or jump out a window and nothing happens. But if you’re in one of those dreams and someone creates a portal...”

“What the hell?” Brow rising in disbelief.

“Am I losing you somewhere?” Tone condescending but his eyes are soft gold and narrow.

The trickster voice may be coming through but his eyes and body are screaming archangel. Back straight, shoulders rigid, hands still by his sides, not waving around. It’s almost, almost like Castiel.

“A portal?” Face broadcasting his contempt as he nervously licks his lips.

“Yes genius a portal. And if you fall through one it’s a fast track for your soul to leave your body.”

“Wait, what!?” Suddenly cold. “Sam’s soul is gone?”

Gabriel just waits and watches as Dean starts to panic. Face suddenly white, swaying slightly.

“He’s...Sam’s...” Absolutely horrified.

“I got there in time.” Finally letting him know. “His soul barely left his body.”

“He’s...So, Sam’s okay?” Barely breathing.

“He’s going to need a few days and something like that leaves a scar. He’ll have to be careful around certain things in future.” Then conceding. “But generally speaking, he’s fine.” Trickster tone completely gone now.

Dean’s relearning how to breathe. He almost killed...He almost _killed_ Sam.

“Thank you.” Relief flooding in.

Which doesn’t even get him a reply, Gabriel won’t meet his eyes. Which raises Dean’s hackles. Reminds him that no matter what he’s done, Gabriel probably still has a game plan. It’s not like he hasn’t saved Sam’s life before. Another thought occurs to him.

“Let’s say I believe you, but last time I checked Lucifer needed Sam to say yes?”

“If Sam’s soul isn’t there he’s just an empty vessel.” Eyes level and direct.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Did I look like I was joking when I arrived?” Quiet and low.

Which reminds him of thunder and lightning and pain.

“No.”

“So glad to see I’m getting through.” Gold eyes direct.

“I want to see him.” He has to see, check for himself. Make sure he hasn’t completely, irreversibly destroyed Sam. Killed his brother. He...swallowing hard and remembering to breathe, just breathe. He almost killed Sam. He has to see, to check, see him breathe.

“No.”

“What?” Trying to keep his temper in check. “What do you mean no? He’s my brother...”

“Who you almost killed.” Gabriel reminds him.

“I get it. All right. Now let me see Sam.” Jaw locking.

“And I’m saying no.” The angel is just watching him, calm, eyes not leaving his face.

“I...” Anger spilling over.

“What are you going to do Dean? No one can hear you.”

“Cas...” Because there is no way Cas will let Gabriel hurt him, again...doubts trickling in.

“Cas can’t hear you either.” Tone simple and clear.

“What?” Fear setting in. What the fuck has Gabriel done?

“No one can hear you Dean, not even Castiel, because you’re dreaming.”

“No.”

“Yes.” But he’s not smiling. “I wasn’t lying about perfect symmetry.”

His heart suddenly pounding. He can’t...Cas...but...he’s trapped. Gabriel’s trapped him in here.

“You lying son of a bitch. We had an agreement.”

“We did. Until you almost killed Sam and handed his body over to Lucifer.”

“You think that I don’t get that?” Grasping at straws, because this bastard always has a plan. A reason for messing with people. Except he’s more Archangel than trickster right now. Licking his lips. He has to, has to let him out. He needs to see Sam. “Is that it? You think I don’t understand exactly how much I’ve messed up?”

“Have you stopped to think about why you drugged Sam?”

“What are you my therapist?” Eyes suddenly wide in disbelief.

Gabriel just rolls his eyes and slowly shakes his head.

“Just think about it.” Hand rising, fingers shifting.

“No! Don’t you dare leave me here.” The growl isn’t really intimidating, he knows his voice is closer to begging.

“What, asleep?” Gabriel can’t help smirking.

“I’m serious, don’t you dare.”

“Fine. Since talking to you is like hitting my head against a brick wall.” Dramatic sigh. “ And I thought your brother was stubborn but you Dean, have taken stubborn to an entirely new level.” Eyes glowing soft gold again. “Have you stopped to think that maybe your problem is you don’t trust Sam?”

“I...” Opening his mouth to protest because he already knows. Knows he has a problem, doesn’t need this asshole to parade it before him.

“Drugged your brother thinking it would keep him away from Lucifer because you don’t trust him to keep saying no. Tell me if I’m getting warm here.”

“Get the fuck out of my head.” Snarling.

“A little close to the truth there Dean?”

Silence as they glare at each other.

“Look, you don’t like me, fine. Can’t say I like you much either. You’re a selfish asshole with a one track mind. But Sam’s your brother.”

“And why do you care? What are you getting out of this Gabriel?” Distrust painting every word. Because there has to be something. He wouldn’t be helping for nothing. Must be getting something out of it. Even if it is just sick kicks.

But the archangels eyes are suddenly glowing intense gold and Dean can he hear thunder rolling in the background.

“What do I get out of this?” Voice back to deep and low. “Have you stopped to think that maybe Sam is the key?” Feet gliding closer, pushing himself into Dean’s personal space. Gold eyes glaring up into his. “If Sam says yes I lose everything.” Anger barely controlled. “All of it. Do you really think having so little faith in him is helping? What do you think Lucifer is taunting him with?” Lightning striking in the distance.

Which makes Dean’s breath catch.

He hadn’t thought. He just...swallowing hard. If Gabriel is right...but he already knows he is. They are each other’s weakness, Lucifer has to know that. Know that using his distrust again Sam is the easiest way in. Which...he...stepping away.

Then suddenly blinking at the wall. Cream wall with...sitting up suddenly. Blood rushing to his head. He’s laying on a bed and this isn’t the same room.

Window closed, no longer open. Curtains rusty red.

He’s awake.


	19. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Dean is awake he has to face Sam and what he's done.

The first thing to protest is his bladder, the next is every bruised rib and his hips. But the door to the adjoining room is finally open. On the opposite side of the room than it was in his dream...

He’s not sure what to think about his dream. Too vivid. Too real. Is this reality? Is this what it’s like for Sam every day? Waking up every morning? Wondering if this is really real? If it is...he doesn’t want to think, but he’s starting to understand why Sam looks a little uncertain in the mornings. Stares around the room with dilated eyes.

So he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hands hanging between his knees. He needs to get up, needs to check on Sam but...Gabriel’s taking care of Sam. Maybe because he just wants to keep a little part of the world for himself but, that’s as good a reason as any.

It’s not noble or self sacrificing but...it’s as good a reason as Dean would expect.

He just...he doesn’t want to trust Gabriel. Doesn’t think he ever will but, the angel did save Sam. Did get to him in time to undo the mess he made. He saved Sam. Again. That deserves something. It may not be trust but it may be enough for respect. Even if it’s only a little.

Though when he stands he wishes he was a little better at healing. Or maybe a little less quick to throw him across the room and into a wall. Raising his shirts he can see bruises. Black and blue and deep red across his torso. He’s painted purple over his hips. Hopefully putting a soul back is easier and less painful, he hopes it’s less painful, doesn’t even want to consider what Sam looks like right now. But, snort of painful amusement, more likely the angel didn’t want him completely healed, wanted his message to stick. Consequences. Like he’s ever going to forget.

He has to trust Sam. Or at least act like he does. Which is when he realises he believes the damn angel. Believes what he said. Not that it’s a huge leap. Lucifer would figure it out, how bad things are between them, use it against Sam. Not like he’s kept it hidden. Letting his shirt drop. Not like he hasn’t made sure everyone, including Sam knows just what he thinks, how he feels.

He really is an asshole. He said he’d give Sam a second chance, give them both a chance to work together again, get back some of what they’ve lost. All the trust and hell, even respect. He lost a lot of respect for Sam when he saw him drinking that demon’s blood, heard him defend his actions, say that he needed it. He gets Sam has a problem, an addiction, and he knows he’s never really given Sam any real support, just condemnation. It’s not Sam’s fault. He never wanted this. He was six months old when it all started. He...rubbing both hands over his stubbled cheeks. It’s not like Sam had _no_ choices, because he did, but...addiction is addiction. That demon bitch got him hooked and he couldn’t stop, couldn’t think straight.

He really needs to stop being so judgemental about that. It’s not like Sam can carve the demon blood part of him out, even if he wanted to. Staring at the window. And he knows Sam wants to. Knows it, just, he has to believe in it. Believe that if Sam had the chance to make it all go away, he’d take it. Not just...he doesn’t know. Doesn’t even know what he’s thinking anymore. Just that he can’t keep doing this to Sam. It’s not his fault and it’s not fair. Sam is Sam, he’s his brother and he just has to accept that his blood is tainted, nothing is ever going to change that. No matter how much they both may want it to.

As for Lucifer. Staring at the cream and brown flecked carpet floor. He hasn’t said yes yet. God, he jumped out a freaking window just to get away from him. Just so he wouldn’t be in the same room, have to listen to him. If Sam’s that determined. Willing to risk, even if he thought it was just a dream, willing to fall that far just to get away. He should trust him. Trust him to keep saying no.

Looking up and staring at the doorway. It leads into a bathroom. He can’t quite see through to the other room. Just a sliver of sunlight hitting tiles. He needs to see Sam first, then decide what to do next. One thing at a time. He can’t change everything he thinks and believes in one moment. Snort, what did Dad always say? One disaster at a time?

If moving hurt, walking hurts even more so. Just the half dozen strides it takes to get across the room set his teeth on edge, locking his jaw. He needs to sit down again. Needs to lay down and maybe...no. He doesn’t want to sleep anymore. Doesn’t want to sleep for a long, long time. No wonder Sam was so stubborn. If he knew...and then it hits him. Almost staggering, leaning against the wall. Sam knew. Knew what was waiting for him. He was protesting. Actually frightened when he realised what Dean had done. Jesus. Pausing before the door.

All this time he’s been pushing, keeping Sam at bay and now that he’s done this, been a complete asshole, he can expect the same in return. Knows Sam is going to look at him exactly the same way he’s been looking at Sam. Sam trusted him and he betrayed that trust. He may not have done it for blood or for a demon. May not have started an Apocalypse but somehow this is worse. Sam relied on him, trusted him and he didn’t just let him down, he sent him straight to Lucifer.

So he stops in the connecting bathroom to use the facilities first. Splashing water over his face when he’s done. He looks like shit. Looks like he went three rounds with a wendigo and almost lost. Skin pale, dark circles and bags under his eyes. He may have gotten sleep, how much sleep he doesn’t know, but he didn’t get any rest. And Sam’s been doing this for weeks? He never really appreciated that before.

Blinking at himself in the mirror, hazel eyes staring back into his. Gabriel’s lesson went further than just explaining how much of a dick he’s been. He’s given him a taste of what it’s been like for Sam. Not only has he completely disregard how fucked up the situation is, he personally delivered Sam to Lucifer. On top of that, by not trusting him, not giving him a chance, he’s given Lucifer the perfect ammunition to throw at him. Handed him the instruction manual and told the devil exactly which button to press. Head hanging, he can’t meet his own eyes. What he’s done, there isn’t an apology big enough.

Seems to be his month for it. Apologies that aren’t enough. He hasn’t forgotten what he did to Cas. Still hasn’t gotten through to him. Christ, the way Cas looked at him last night. All intense anger and barely contained rage. He deserves it. No doubt about it, deserves every bit of it.

And now he’s just wallowing. Snorting. Thinking sardonic, Dad would be so fucking proud. How many friends did Dad have in the end? None. Even Bobby wouldn’t deal with him by then. Winchester charm. Glancing up to see hollow hazel framed by tiny drops of water clinging to his lashes. He doesn’t want to be like him. He loves his Dad but he destroyed everything. In the end all he had left was Dean and even then they barely got along. Dean just followed orders. Just a good little soldier. They were never equals. Just like he and Sam aren’t equals now. The irony is thick enough to choke on. He is his Dad, his hero and he hates it.

***

Standing in the doorway leading out of the shared bathroom, he can see Sam asleep on a king sized bed on the other side of the room. Sleeping on his stomach, one arm wrapped around the pillow under his head, the other hanging off the edge of the mattress. Hair half covering his face, he really needs to get it cut again. Ruby’s knife just showing underneath the pillow in a leather sheath. It’s not one of theirs, he doesn’t recognise it. Which would have to mean it’s...

Paper rustles from the window in the far wall to his left. Gabriel’s made himself at home in a window seat, one leg crossed over the other, reading what looks like one of Bobby’s books. He’s back to wearing his dark jeans, even darker red shirt and dusty brown shoes. The same clothes he was wearing when they discovered he’s not just a trickster but an archangel. The hint is subtle but Dean’s not missing it. He may look small and harmless, he may even be playing nice but underneath it all he’s powerful. Probably vengeful and wrathful too.

His eyes are back to hazel when he finally looks up and meets Dean’s gaze, then he shifts a little, craning his neck round to look at Sam on the bed at right angles to his window. He pauses a moment before he goes back to reading in silence.

“Look I...” Dean begins to apologise. For what he doesn’t know. For not thinking before he acted, for almost killing Sam, for starting the end of the world when he broke the first seal in hell. Anything, everything, all of it.

Gabriel merely looks up, mouth shut tight in a thin line. Hazel eyes direct and glaring. The look is enough. He doesn’t care and he doesn’t want to know. Which makes Dean grit his teeth. Fine.

“Then at least let me say thank you.”

Gabriel leans over to watch Sam for a long moment again.

He looks pale, bruised half moons under his eyes. Dirty hair falling all over his face. Looks like he hasn’t washed it in days which... He washed it yesterday. Dean even made his usual princess comments. Wait...how long has he been asleep? Glancing down at his watch and it’s midday. Midday on the...three days? He’s been asleep three days. Shooting Gabriel another glance but he’s back to reading his book, Bobby’s book, and why the hell is he doing that anyway? But he’s ignoring Dean again.

Gabriel may be ignoring him but when he looks back to Sam, Sam is awake and definitely not ignoring him.

***

He aches, everything aches. Gabriel explained why. Something about his soul and shoving it back into his body, which, makes no sense right now with his thoughts lazily sliding around in circles, but...the way he looked at him. Like he was concerned, pleased to see he was alive. He doesn’t... never thought Gabriel wanted him dead, he seems to direct all of that at Dean, but...Pleased? Happy to see him alive? That was unexpected.

Now every time he wakes, wakes from blissfully benign dreams, Gabriel is hovering. Finally let him get up this morning, with help. He hovers worse than Dean. Dean who he hasn’t seen since...Fingers automatically touching the knife. Lucifer. Falling. Flying, falling, tumbling. Cold. Dean...he can’t believe. Doesn’t want to believe, but Dean drugged him. Trapped him in with...He doesn’t want to remember. How weak he was, how close he came. The blood, he can still see it dripping. Sliding, trailing, pooling on Lucifer’s shirt. Vivid coppery smell. Can remember the weight of the almost taste on his tongue. Heart suddenly racing. Fist clenching. He doesn’t, he didn’t, he _won’t_!

Eyes opening. Then opening wider as he sees Dean.

Dean?

He looks...tired, exhausted, pale. Eyes...he’s missing his armour. Normal arrogant humour gone. Anger missing. He looks...hollow. Like something vital has been stripped away.

His first instinct is to get up, say something, help, but he can barely move. Still weak and tired and aching. Like he really did fall out a window. Then the memory of blood comes back and he remembers, remembers why he was there, how he got there, why he was trapped. Dean. Dean trapped him there. Wouldn’t listen. Refused to hear. He couldn’t, should never have...Dean doesn’t listen! Never god damned listens to him. Remembering to breathe past the rising, seething rage.

“Sam, I’m sorry.” And Dean really look like he means it.

“Sorry for what? For drugging me, trapping me in there with Lucifer?” Words snapping out in anger. “Forcing me to listen to him, let him...” But he can barely say the words. “Or are you actually sorry you didn’t listen to me for once! All you had to do was listen Dean. But oh no, you’re the big brother, you run this show!”

And Dean actually looks away. Which makes him force himself to sitting, barely able to lean against the bed head without slipping down.

“You can’t even look at me!” Voice rising. “Look at what you’ve done Dean. Lucifer almost won because you won’t listen to me!”

“Sammy...” Eyes swinging back again.

“No Dean. You either listen to me, for gods sake _trust_ me or...” But he can’t say it. Won’t. Knows Dean will just use it against him the next time something else goes wrong.

Dean doesn’t trust him. Won’t ever trust him. He _saw_ him as Lucifer. Dean’s already seen what he’s done. Knows...He hasn’t, _won’t_ say yes...But he did. For some reason he did, he will and Dean...Dean won’t even give him a chance to stop it. All his bullshit about making sure it never happens. Choosing their own destiny. But what Dean really means is his own. Not Sam’s, never that. So why the fuck is he here?!

Kicking the blankets off his legs. He needs to...needs to be anywhere else but here. Anywhere else but in this room with Dean.

“Whoa, wait.” Gabriel already beside him. He didn’t even hear him move, he probably just appeared. Bastard can do that. “Sam, you can’t.”

He ignores him, pushes up against the hands on his shoulders.

“Sam!” Suddenly serious, hands pushing him down. “Stay there.”

“Let go.” Snarling and fighting against his own weakness, just as much as Gabriel’s hands.

“You need to rest.” Hazel eyes catching his as he glares up at him.

“I’m fine.” But he’s really not. “Let me go.”

“No.” Since when did Gabriel get bigger, pushy and serious?

And since when does Dean stay back and watch?

But he is, isn’t doing a thing to help him. Which sets his teeth on edge, gives him enough strength to shove out at Gabriel and push him away. Watching as Gabriel stumbles back, then shakes his head in resigned disgust. Turning his back, he goes back to his reading.

Standing...standing is...swaying. Dizzy with weakness, rage. He’s leaving, getting out of this room and...one step, two. Room spinning. He doesn’t care. He’s getting away from here. Even if it’s just for a minute. A moment to get some air, calm down, stop choking on rage. Get away before he says something incredibly stupid and destroys, snorting, destroys what? Not like Dean could think any less of him. Trust him any less. Three steps, faltering, everything swimming, sliding, falling. No! Trying to stand up straight. Darkness. Not falling. Not tumbling, flying, falling down...

Arm suddenly sliding under his, supporting him round his chest. Warm body against his side, then he’s laying down again in an instant. Hands smoothing long hair away from his face, bringing the blankets up over him again. Because he’s cold, shaking, shivering. Still in darkness. Falling, darkness, falling.

“Sam?” Smooth palm on his face, making him pay attention, making him focus on the here and now. Not on the flying, freezing, falling. “By the way you’re a complete idiot, are you listening?”

Blinking, world still spinning. Gold, hazel, brown.

“What’s wrong with him?” And he knows that voice, it’s Dean.

Dean who he’s still pissed at. Dean who drugs him, won’t trust him! Well fuck you Dean!

“He’s still far too weak to be up and walking around.” Concern. God damned angel bastard is concerned. Even as he’s resting a hand against his chest and holding him down. Anchoring him. Not falling, twisting, flying.

“Can’t you fix him?” Demand clear as the proverbial bell.

“Fix him? What? Like he’s a car?” Gabriel, that’s Gabriel. Becoming overly familiar with that sarcastic tone.

Forcing a weak hand to lash out, push his hand away. Doesn’t want his hands touching him. Wants them both to go the fuck away. But his hand just ends up flopping uselessly in Gabriel’s general direction. Barely feeling his hand touch cloth as it lands somewhere near his thigh.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Gabriel’s voice is light, playful. “But I don’t think now is the time to be groping me Sam.”

Even as he feels the angels fingers wrap softly around his, then gently rest them back on the bed. He wants to pull away again, knock his hand away, but he just can’t. Doesn’t have any energy left. Not a single ounce of strength. Damn Dean, stupid, arrogant son of a bitch.

“Why don’t you just heal him like you did with me?” He can hear Dean demanding, slowly edging closer till he’s hovering over the two of them.

“Because genius, if I do that I’ll be lighting him up like a June bug and we’ll need to get away from here.”

“So?” Dean just doesn’t know when to shut up. He’d laugh if it wasn’t so predictably fucking normal.

“I can’t do both at the same time.” Irritable and Sam knows it bothers him to admit it. He got to overhear the entire debate with Cas.

“Fine, then Cas...”

And he can almost feel the moment Dean realises that Cas is gone.

“Where’s Cas?” Edge of something that might be fear in Dean’s voice.

“He had to leave, search for Dad, you know the drill.” He can almost see the eye roll, even with his eyes stuck shut.

His eyes closed of their own accord, but he can tell that Gabriel’s still hovering, one hand almost touching his side, almost doing what he did before. Heat and warmth that spilled into him. Almost, but he won’t. Sam knows he won’t because Cas told him not to. Made him promise he wouldn’t. He’s not sure why, but Cas didn’t want him doing it again and Gabriel hasn’t. Gabriel listened to Cas, which is...interesting.

“He left?” And that’s disbelief, thinking bitterly. Sam knows that tone. Had it directed at him often enough.

“And I wonder why that would be?” Angry heat teasing at the edge of Gabriel’s voice.

Then there’s only silence. Silence and he’s drifting. He’s already going back to sleep. Sleep where...breathing slowly but swallowing hard. Gabriel won’t let Lucifer find him. He hasn’t yet and he promised. He’s staying. Without the sigil, without the ritual he’s...hating the word, vulnerable. But Gabriel is staying. Can’t believe he’s trusting the archangel, but he did save his life, healed him, has been guarding his sleep since then. He just, has to trust that he won’t leave now Dean is awake. That Dean won’t drive him away. Because he needs him. Hating it but it’s the truth. He needs Gabriel.

Sound clear as Gabriel sighs above him.

“Just go back to sleep.” Fingers touching his hand again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Then the touch is gone and he’s back to drifting, sliding, softly down into sleep.


	20. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's sleep is still unprotected without direct intervention, so now they have to decide if they trust Gabriel enough to do the blood sigil.
> 
> Author's Note:  
> I just want to be clear that I have absolutely nothing against the military, both my parents are military and I grew up on bases. Which might also explain why I use them in the way I do. So please, I hope no one is offended. I have the utmost respect for 99.9% of the defence force.

Gabriel cannot believe they’re back to this again. Though considering who Castiel has spent most of his earthly time around, he guesses he’s not really surprised. Just frustrated. It’s late, almost midnight and he’s sure Sam wants to get some sleep about now. If he needed sleep he knows he’d want to, anything to avoid having this discussion, again.

“Were you missing the day Dad handed out sense? Or did you just decide that martyrdom was so much more glorious?”

Which leaves him with a glaring younger brother.

“I can do this.” And it’s great that Cas sounds so sure, and okay, maybe he can but...

“Doesn’t mean you should. Didn’t the A-bomb teach you anything?”

And that only gets him baffled confusion. Brows tight with a slight head tilt.

“Oh for...” Almost throwing his hands in the air. “They split the atom, I don’t care why, but then they created a bomb from it and because they suddenly had a big bomb they just had to drop it somewhere. This was back in 1945 and they’re still cleaning up the mess. I really don’t want to be scraping what’s left of you up for the next few decades after Lucifer cuts you to pieces.”

Castiel just blinks at him in that unnerving way he has. He wishes sharing his grace had opened up some metaphysical bond, because his brother wants to do something incredibly dangerous, and for what? To prove that he can? And apparently he’s making no sense to Cas either, because he’s still just blinking at him in barely concealed confusion.

“I’m saying, that just because you can do it, doesn’t mean you should. Because eventually Lucifer is going to find you and I’d rather not be around when that happens.” Which isn’t quite the truth but it’s close enough for current company.

Sam and Dean are being unusually quiet, just sitting back at the dining table and watching the two angels stand by the window and debate who should do the blood sigil for Sam. Then again they’ve been quiet for days now. He knows Dean’s still in pain, can see it every time he moves around. And Sam, he knows for a fact that Sam was sitting in the bottom of the shower yesterday. Sitting because he was too weak to stand up to wash.

Whether he slipped or collapsed when he got out from under the spray is still up for debate. The resounding bangs were loud enough to have him and Dean standing outside opposite doors. He could have just...lips twisting in frustration. He could have helped but Sam wouldn’t want him to. All he could do was wait until he came out again, fully dressed and damp, then he could see the bruises that were already appearing. Dark red marks around blossoming darkness. It only took a quick touch and a thought and the swelling was going down and the bruising was turning from black to yellow.

Apart from that he just has to sit back and let the kid plow through pain, weakness and exhaustion, til he can barely move or speak. Til his eyes are sagging closed and he starts sliding one way or another. Sliding then panicking as whatever sense memory starts to kick in. Falling, he’s betting on falling. And since Sam and Dean are barely on speaking terms he’s left to bring him back down. Anchoring him to the here and now.

Though yesterday Dean finally got the nerve to ask about his precious car, which is parked in the underground car park down stairs. He’d have happily left it where it was but Castiel insisted he go back and get it. Patiently explained that the boys were vulnerable without all the weapons and whatever else the car contained. So after he toyed with Dean, told him he’d left it behind and watched Dean’s blood pressure rise but his mouth stayed shut, he eventually informed him where it was. After that Dean retrieved their weapons and started the painstaking task of cleaning them all. They looked pretty clean to him, but he wasn’t the one jamming salt rounds into metal barrels.

He had a tense moment when Sam went over to join him at the dining table. Those two, a bag full of weapons, it couldn’t end well. Especially with all the dirty looks Sam was still giving Dean. But instead it had the opposite effect. Just when he was considering popcorn and settling in for the fireworks display, they quietly started passing guns back and forth between them. Settling into an obviously long familiar rhythm that made them both relax. They didn’t speak, there was absolutely no communication, but by the end the weapons were clean and they’d both stopped looking like they were one tight glance away from a brawl. Shame, he’d been kind of looking forward to an argument. It might have been entertaining to watch Sam punch Dean in the face just once, instead of Dean being the one to lash out.

Because it’s getting boring. He’s been here five days now, cooped up in this room, which is much better than any other room he’s seen these boys in. Mainly because he refused to spend another extended visit covered in dust and dirt and staring at stains he’d rather not think about, let alone see. Five days, and three of those days alone with these two because Cas decided now was a good time to fly off in search of Dad again. Sending a glare Dean’s way, and he wonders why that would be. Cas not wanting to be here when Dean woke up, not wanting to be anywhere near the eldest Winchester.

To begin with it was fun reading Robert’s mayan history and protective spell books, picking out everything they’d gotten wrong and leaving sarcastic little notes in the margins. It’s not...he’s not _trying_ to be helpful. He just can’t seem to help himself. Or at least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Sam’s seen his handy work but isn’t saying anything. Gabriel just sits back and watches his eyebrows rise high, then higher, before he starts frantically searching the internet to try and confirm what he’s written. That, that was fun for an entire day and a half. Just kicking back watching TV and figuring what his next gig would be. He has plenty to choose from and plenty of things he’s considering as just deserts.

There’s an army base a few towns over that’s just ripe with asshole’s who think they’re better than the locals. One Sergeant in particular seems to think he deserves respect, if that’s what he calls it, from everyone and anyone, just because he wears a uniform. Likes to throw his weight around. Then there’s a charming Private who’s been hassling a sweet, young waitress. Doesn’t seem to know the meaning of the word no and is heading down a very slippery, dark slope. Not that he wants to stop him sliding, but he’d rather the girl didn’t have to take the ride along with him. Sweet girl who does not deserve what that asshole probably has planned.

But apart from all that, apart from the fact he can’t wait to leave, knows that if he does the sigil he’s going to be putting in an appearance every few days, seeing more of Dean than he really wants to. That it’s going to severely cut into his Trickster time. He still wants to do it. Definitely does not want to see Cas doing it.

Sigh.

And yet on the other hand, Cas probably needs to do this. Needs to test himself, needs to know what he can do. They both know he’s no longer falling, at least nowhere near as fast as he was. Gabriel’s grace has stopped his frightening free fall in its tracks.

Cas is still staring. When doesn’t he stare? But Gabriel can feel himself wavering. It means he’ll have to hang around a bit longer; tonight and most of tomorrow morning, because Sam needs the sleep. Have to keep his justice short and sweet and probably harsher than he intended but he won’t, can’t leave Cas alone with this unprotected. If he can do this, _if_ and it’s a big if, but if he can then he needs to be prepared. Sam needs to be prepared too. Hell they all need to be prepared.

“Fine.” Suddenly quiet. He feels like a parent with a human child. “But you are taking precautions.”

“You said you had a plan.” It’s the first time Dean’s spoken in hours.

He tried to talk to Cas when he arrived but Cas just stared for an extended moment, then for the first time ever he asked about Sam. He’s not taking it as a sign that Cas is coming round, realising that as much as this is Sam’s fault, it’s not all his fault, and that the kid deserves a break but...who’s he kidding, he is, he’s hoping. The kid needs all the help he can get.

Which...why the hell does he even care? He’s just here to stop Sam from making the worst mistake of his life. All their lives. And destroying Heaven and Earth whilst doing it. He protects Sam from Lucifer, stops him from saying yes, Apocalypse grinds to a halt and maybe, just maybe he can keep his little corner of the world. Not much else he can do. If Dean won’t say yes and Sam won’t say yes, then he doesn’t have to watch his brothers kill each other. It’s a win-win situation. Except for all the endless hours he’s spending with the Winchester boys. And Cas. He can admit he likes Cas. Cas is...sharing his grace with him...It’s been a long time.

He hasn’t thought of himself as an angel in millennia. Hasn’t been Gabriel since...it took awhile, he can admit that. Took awhile to settle into being the Trickster, using his powers for Justice in another way. Still doing...painful to think it, still doing Dad’s work. What Dad asked him to do, just...perhaps not exactly how Dad intended. But he cut himself off, locked that part of himself away. Cut his connections, but it was more than that, didn’t realise it till he shared with Cas, he locked his grace down too. Stopped feeling...anything. Tried to forget all of it. Too much pain, too much loss and he cut it all off. Forgot the pleasure of sharing, the goodness, the light. Laughter, companionship. Forgot all of it.

Now he has Cas, his own little brother and...cringing. He doesn’t want to see him get hurt. Doesn’t want to forget again. That not all of Heaven was bloodshed and arrogant hatred. That there was something good. He sure as hell doesn’t want to see Cas cut up by their mutual older brother. But he has to let Cas do this. As much as he hates it, he has to let him try. Cas needs to know if he can and he’s watched Dean with Sam enough to know that there’s no point trying to convince him not to attempt it. If anything, it’d almost be cruel and Cas has had enough arrogant assholes push him around in his existence.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t convince him to be smart about this. Lucifer will know what they’re up to way too quickly if they aren’t careful. Then he’ll cause him enough pain to make him wish he’d never met Sam Winchester. That’s before Lucifer decides to track him down and tear him apart. He’ll make what Raphael did seem like a roses and candy in comparison. Speaking of candy.

Snapping his fingers and making a bar of chocolate appear. It’d be more amusing if Cas didn’t glare at him for making the Winchester boys jump. He really needs to take him out and teach him how to loosen up and have some fun.

“So this plan?” Dean prompts him again.

“We don’t use the sigil every night.” Turning his gaze on Sam, apologetic. “Sorry Sammy but it’s just not worth the risk. The more we do this, the quicker he’s going to figure it out.”

He can only watch as Sam swallows hard, obviously freaked out and trying to suppress it. Repression, the Winchester way. Seems sort of pointless, considering everyone in the room can see how scared he is. Which, not surprising really, considering what he’s recovering from. Lucifer almost carved out his soul. If someone almost carved out his grace he’d be pretty freaked out too. Grace which is still warm and glowing inside him. Chasing away the cold. Cold he never even realised was there before.

Dean suddenly stiffens and he realises he’s doing it again. Damn. Stupid eyes. Swallowing down the power leak and noticing that Sam isn’t flinching or bothered by it. Then again he didn’t throw Sam into a wall or lock him inside his own head, whilst leaking power all over the place from what he did with Cas. He really needs to relearn control or he’s going to end up hurting someone. Probably Dean, which he can live with but still, quick glance at Cas, he’s not sure if Cas will mind. Hasn’t exactly voiced a protest about what he did to Dean but...that long look he gave him earlier, definitely something going on there.

“If that’s what it takes.” Sam’s agreeing to his plan.

“And Cas and I will rotate.” Spearing Cas with a stare of his own before he can protest. “No I’m not debating this with you and yes you’re going to accept it or...”

He can’t believe he was just about to tell him he won’t let him do it at all. What is he? Cas mother? He really needs to get away from these boys, they’re a bad influence on his sense of self preservation.

Dean actually snickers.

Cas looks half way between insulted, mildly confused and contemplative, which would actually mean thirds, but who’s counting?

“The point is, if we rotate you won’t risk losing anymore of...”

Cas eyes sharpen and with a quick glance to Dean, he cuts in.

“I understand.” And now he’s not even arguing or protesting at all.

“What?” Damnit, Dean’s way too perceptive for his liking sometimes.

He’d just love to explain it all, in graphic, painful detail, with possibly some well designed demonstrations so that Dean can wrap his tiny brain around it, but Cas doesn’t want him to know and he’s actually going to respect that.

Another cringe. This sharing his grace thing has made him sentimental.

“What’s Cas going to lose?” Dean’s demanding.

When he sneaks a look at Sam he’s simply staring between the two of them. Cas’ almost painfully distant face and his, he has no idea how he looks right now, at least not in Sam’s eyes, but it seems enough for the kid to put one and one together and end up with one and a half. Which Cas is either ignoring or too busy pretending to ignore Dean to notice.

“Probably his mind if we keep debating this to death. We’ll take it in turns, Sam will take days off and between the two of us, Lucifer will take months to figure out what’s going on.”

“Won’t he notice that he can’t find me?” Sam is deliberately holding his gaze.

“Yes.” No point in denying it, staring right back.

“So when he does find me...” Letting the obvious thought trail off, because there is no point in saying it out loud. Everyone is thinking it. Lucifer is going to be pissed.

“It’s not perfect.” And he actually wants to apologise at the hint of desperation racing across Sam’s face. Stupid grace sharing. Damn Dean, because he’s not going to damn Cas. Cas made a choice and he respects...of for fucks sake...he wants alcohol. He definitely wants to get away from these three, get back to his Trickster work and... Sam is looking at him strangely. “Sorry kiddo, but it’s the best we’ve got.”

“That’s your grand plan?” Dean is actually sniping. Is that jealousy? Because he had the nerve to apologise? You’ve got to be kidding. After the way he’s treated his brother, hell everyone? He’s pissed that he actually apologised?

“I’m sorry, did I happen to miss your better one?” Glaring at him annoyed.

“I just figured since you’re such a great and powerful Archangel.” Snide. “You could come up with something better, like oh I don’t know, something more permanent. Or let me think, actually do something about your charming brothers.”

He knows his eyes are glowing this time and he’s not going to stop them.

“You want me to fight my brothers?” Voice dropping low with anger.

“Gabriel.” Cas is trying to intervene.

“I notice you’re so eager to kill Sam.” Throwing the sarcastic words at Dean. Then serious. “Just because some of us are happy to hurt our brothers doesn’t mean everyone is.”

Which shuts him up right away, eyes averting in guilt.

“It’s a good plan.” Cas is breaking the standoff.

“No it isn’t little brother. It’s far from a good plan. In fact I’d go so far to say it’s a stupid, crappy plan but it’s the only plan we have. And since you’re so sure you want to do this I’ll remind you once again. It’s going to hurt. When Lucifer starts pushing, when he finds Sam and wants to get through it’s going to really, really hurt. You’re going to rue the day that boy was born.”

“Did you just say rue?” Dean just can’t keep his mouth shut.

“Shut up Dean.” Which is Sam, voice and entire body radiating how tired he is. “Look I’m grateful, really I am but I don’t know if I want you guys to do this.”

He can’t stop the look of disbelief he gives Sam.

“No, just hear me out.” Looking at Cas. “I don’t want Lucifer to hurt you. I’m sorry about what I’ve done. I started this, I let Lucifer out and maybe this is my punishment. We got you killed once, I don’t want...What I’m saying is, thank you. But you don’t have to do this. I can handle it.”

Which leaves the room in silence. Cas looks, he’s just blinking and staring at Sam.

“We can’t risk you saying yes to him.” Voice low but non judgemental.

“But Gabriel can...” A quick glance his way to check, hazel eyes so earnest. “Gabriel can do this, he wants to.”

Castiel actually looks away then, eyes drifting across the room, staring out the window before coming back to lock his gaze right onto Sam.

“I want to help you.” Direct and serious.

Which, okay, he’s really is getting pathetically sentimental because that makes him sort of warm and relieved. If Cas actually wants to help Sam, not just wants to do this to test himself...Alcohol, first opportunity.

“Right okay, enough. Are we doing this or not?” Pushing the ball up hill because getting the ball rolling is just a fantasy at this point.

“Yeah I...” And Sam actually looks a little choked up. “I guess we are. Who’s going first?”

“I am.” Gets echoed by two voices.

“You did it last time.” He can’t help but point out. Now it’s his turn. But Cas is looking at him with pure stubbornness. He really needs to take him out, get him away from these boys.

It’s then that he realises Sam hasn’t insisted that Cas can’t do this, even though last time he failed. He knows something happened, there’s no way he could have figured it out, but he knows something happened. The question is does he care if Sam knows? Not really, maybe, Cas will. Does he really want to go around explaining Heaven’s business to humans? Okay, definitely not.

***

Sam closes his eyes when Cas cuts himself this time. Face turned away, eyes averted and closed. Which, they’re really going to have to do something about that or they’re leaving him wide open to another type of attack. Another gap in his already bruised and battered armour. It’s a wonder the kid’s managed to hold out this long.

He doesn’t even know why he’s sitting next to Sam as he lays back on the bed, maybe because he’s been in this exact same position every time he’s gone to sleep for days. Knows the moment he closes his eyes he starts to flip out, needs grounding.

“You’re helping him, aren’t you? Cas?” Sam staring up at him with curious hazel eyes.

“Good night Sam.” Because he is not discussing this, is actually moving to leave. If he can ask questions whilst laying down he’s obviously fine and doesn’t need his help anymore.

“Wait.” And he looks a little wild eyed. “I just...if you are. Thank you.”

“What do I look like, a good Samaritan?” Eyebrows rising.

“You’re helping me aren’t you?” Pointed out the obvious.

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” He really, really can’t. “First you spend months glaring at me like I can’t be trusted, now you seem to think I’m actually the good guy. I’m not. I’m doing this because it has to be done, unless I want my own little piece of paradise destroyed.” Voice mocking.

“Paradise? That’s what you call what you do as the Trickster?” Eyes a little wide and definitely judgemental. “Gabriel you torture people.” Sam’s looking at him like he’s disturbed, which is perfect, just perfect.

“Exactly.” Brushing the sting of the insult away. Sam has no clue, absolutely no clue. “Not exactly the poster boy for good Samaritan now am I?”

And he presses two fingers to Sam’s head before he can continue the conversation.


	21. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas decides it's time to have a conversation with Dean about everything that's been happening.

Cas is surprised to see Dean leave the room as soon as Sam is asleep. He thought he’d stay but he isn’t. Gabriel is still sitting beside Sam on the bed, watching, waiting another moment, his face resigned but Dean can’t see it, can only see his back before he turns, a quick glance his way before he retreats to his own room.

The fact he’s still in pain is obvious. He’s limping, softly cursing as he makes his way across the bathroom tiles. Pain, guilt, it’s telegraphed in every movement. Telegraphed in a way he can clearly read. Which brings him relief. He has no words for how relieved he is. To _see_ Dean again. Be able to read him like he could before.

He can still feel the warmth of Gabriel’s grace. A constant reminder of home. Of Heaven. Of what he’s lost and yet doesn’t regret losing. Doesn’t regret losing any of it. Dean is still the righteous man. He can see that now. Has faith in it again. He may not fully understand why Dean hurt him, hit him, other than he stood between him and his brother, but what he can see is far more important.

Righteous, determined, he won’t stop fighting til the end. Whatever that end may be. He knows that Sam will always come first with Dean. Always. Dean just doesn’t understand that he was trying to protect him. He knew what Gabriel was capable of, and now so does Dean.

Gabriel, his brother. A quick glance in his direction and he’s still sitting on the edge of Sam’s bed. Sam is still physically weak, weaker than Castiel has ever seen him. Weaker than is safe for him to be. They cannot stay here, no matter what Gabriel has done to keep them hidden. Dean has been in and out of this room and that is enough. They’ve all learned that the hard way. Demons are looking for them, the Host of Heaven is looking for them. It’s not safe, but neither Winchester is well enough to drive.

Dean will protest, he’s sure, but he’s not strong enough to do what needs to be done. Gabriel’s grace has given him some grace back, enough so that carving the sigil didn’t leave him weak. He feels tired but not overwhelmed and he can feel that Gabriel has already done something to replace what he little he did use. Despite all that, he knows he’s not strong enough to move both Winchesters, everything they own and the Impala.

Dean’s precious car. He knows what it means to him. Knows that it’s not just an object, a place to keep all of their hunting things, it’s also his Home. And he’s come to understand what it means to have a home and lose it. He doesn’t want to do that to Dean. Which is why he made Gabriel go back and bring the car here the last time they had to move.

Last time. Watching Sam sleep. Dean made a mistake. He isn’t perfect, he’s flawed. But he hasn’t started to twist or turn like he feared.

Dean looks almost lost sitting on the edge of his bed, shoulders hunched, hands dangling between his knees, staring at the carpeted floor. As silent as he knows he is, Dean still looks up the moment he comes through the door.

“Hey.”

Only one word as he watches him closely. Eyes wary, waiting. He can feel himself frowning, brows pulling in tight. Why would Dean be wary of him? What does he think he’s going to do, what is he waiting for?

Silence.

“So uh...how’s the search going?” Dean asks quietly, keeping his voice low. He doesn’t want to risk waking Sam.

Which makes him pause. He hasn’t found anything since the dagger, nothing since Guatemala. No glimmer of heat, nothing.

“I will continue to search.”

Dean just nods, tense and getting tenser as he moves closer and carefully sits beside him on the bed. Pulling the trench coat around him. He can feel every muscle in Dean’s body waiting, but waiting for what? There’s enough space between them to satisfy Dean’s need for personal space. He’s come to respect that. It’s a need Dean has, one he suspects comes from a desire to have enough room to manoeuvre should he need to fight. And a thought occurs to him.

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” Blinking at him in shock.

“I dunno man, last few times...” Swallowing hard as he stares into his eyes. Hazel wary, so careful. “I dunno, are you?”

Which makes him stare at Dean in confusion, taken back. Dean thinks he’s going to hurt him? Why would he think he’s going to hurt him?

“No.” And he’s surprised that Dean’s even asking. He’s never hurt Dean. Threatened to, so long ago now, he threatened to send him back to Hell but, he hopes Dean doesn’t hold that against him. Not after all this time. It was his orders, he was so new to this, so new to Earth. So new to everything but his orders and blindly following everything he was told. He wishes he had questioned his orders but it’s far too late now.

“No? Just no. You’re not still angry?” Looking away and out the window, then down at his hands. “I mean, I get it, I fucked up. Not like I don’t...”

“You made a mistake.”

“Right.” Standing and pacing a few steps before wincing and dropping back down on the bed.

“You should give yourself time to heal Dean.” He needs to heal, needs to rest. His eyes so weary, almost resigned to every horrible thing destiny is throwing at him. Which makes everything inside him squeeze tight. Dean needs to rest so he can fight, he has to convince him, he has to come up with a plan. He needs to help Dean, help him continue to fight.

His statement gets him a confused, almost bewildered look.

“Not that I’m complaining, but I got the feeling you didn’t give a damn.”

“I care.” Catching his eyes and holding them. Hazel eyes staring back into blue. “You made a mistake.”

“I seem to have made a few of them lately.” Looking away briefly, self loathing clear in his voice. A long pause before he looks back, meets his stare. “I know you must be sick of me saying it but I’m sorry I hit you Cas. It was a dick thing to do.”

“You were worried about Sam. I shouldn’t have gotten in the way.” He won’t deny that it hurt. Glancing away, then back again to watch Dean’s eyes stare into his.

“You were trying to help.” Dean finally acknowledges.

It’s a relief to see that Dean finally understands that too. He didn’t want to see Dean hurt, doesn’t like seeing Dean hurt.

“I was concerned.” Nodding slightly. “Gabriel doesn’t like you.”

“I get that. Boy do I get that.”Eyes glancing skyward, to the floor, then back to his again. “And I mean it, I’m sorry. I dunno what else to say.” Hands palm up, fingers spreading wide.

“I forgive you.” It’s the truth. He does forgive Dean. Believes that Dean regrets his actions and wishes he hadn’t hurt him. Dean doesn’t think, he reacts. It’s part of who he is and he accepts that.

Which leaves Dean blinking at him in shock.

“Just like that?”

Silence again.

“Cause I gotta say, you haven’t exactly seemed very forgiving til now.”

He can’t keep staring at Dean, has to look around the room. Settle his eyes on the carpet, wondering briefly why Dean finds it so fascinating. Dean is right and he’s ashamed to admit it. He hasn’t been very forgiving and Dean deserves some explanation.

“I lost sight of you.” Quietly explaining.

“I don’t know what that means.” And it’s obvious that Dean doesn’t, but equally obvious that he wants to, wants to understand why, understand what went wrong. What he did wrong, above and beyond hitting him. But he can’t explain without fully explaining. And he doesn’t want to do that.

“I couldn’t see you.” Is the only explanation he can offer.

“You mean the sigils?” Dean’s trying to follow but Cas isn’t making any sense.

“No.” And he refuses to elaborate.

“Okay.” Pausing, frowning. “But you can see me now, right?”

“Yes.” And he can never explain how much of a relief that is.

“And you forgive me?” Eyes a little wide, disbelief waring with hope.

“Yes.” Simple truth as he stares into Dean’s eyes, tries to make Dean believe him.

“Why?” And it’s a mixture of disbelief that he would be forgiven and not believing he deserves it.

“Because I understand now.” Is the only answer he can offer.

Dean shakes his head.

“This conversation is making my head hurt.” Looking away and rubbing a hand across his cheek.

“I’m sorry.” Watching Dean in pain and confused...hurts.

“No, no, don’t...you don’t want to explain, that’s fine.” Catching his eyes again. “I can live with that.” Accepting too easily, wanting to make things right between them.

“I don’t...” Looking around again, absently biting his lip, before settling his gaze on Dean.

He doesn’t want to burden Dean with what is happening. Dean has enough of a burden to carry without the guilt of his decision to rebel. The consequences of it. He can only hope Sam keeps the information to himself. He saw Sam putting the pieces together earlier, knows he may have understood. He’ll have to talk to him later. Ask him not to tell Dean. Unless it would make things worse between the two brothers. He won’t ask Sam to make things worse. Things are bad enough as it is.

“I think it’s better if I don’t explain.” Softly offering.

“Cas, it’s fine. Okay. I get it.” Voice tinged with impatience.

But he’s pretty sure Dean doesn’t get it at all. In the end all he can do is nod and watch as Dean shifts restless on the edge of the bed, wincing in pain. He shouldn’t have walked up and down the stairs to do their laundry. It needed to be done and he understands that, understands that Dean just wanted to get out of the room. Get away from his brother and Gabriel. Even if Gabriel has stopped glaring at him every time he enters the other room. It may have been necessary but he’s almost certain that people saw him. Many people, and one of them may send their location back to a demon or an angel.

“You need to get away from here, you can’t stay.” Catching Dean’s gaze and holding it. “The longer you stay the more likely the demons or Heaven will find you.”

“Preaching to the choir buddy.” Snarking back at him. “But Sammy too sick to move right now.” Head bowing to stare at the floor.

“And you’re still in pain.”

“I’m fine.” Brushing off his concern.

“You can’t drive.” Countering.

“What do you want me to do Cas?” Getting annoyed now and glaring. “Fine. I can’t drive. Sam’s too weak to move and we’re sitting ducks if we stay here much longer.”

“Let Gabriel take you to Bobby’s.” Finally suggesting, Dean’s not going to like it but it’s the only plan he has to offer.

“Are you nuts?!” Eyes widening in shock laced with anger.

Watching as he resists the impulse to stand, move away, pace.

“I don’t want that son...” Stopping abruptly and looking away, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. “He’s helping, I’m not denying that but I don’t want him anywhere near Bobby.”

“Gabriel will not harm him.” Trying to reassure.

“You trust him that much?” And there’s only a hint of disbelief, he’s trying to make it a genuine question. To sound like he really wants to know, to understand.

“Yes.” He trusts his brother not to hurt Bobby and Sam.

“What happened between the two of you?” Voice quiet, serious.

Breaking the stare, he looks away. Glancing around the room, he can’t meet Dean’s gaze. Doesn’t want to explain, doesn’t want Dean to know. Even if he explained he was losing his grace he wouldn’t want to explain how Gabriel had touched him, hugged him. How he’d cried as the warmth had melted the ice he’d been feeling. How good it’d felt, to suddenly not be alone. How different from the sharing he was accustomed to in Heaven, being connected to other angels. Sharing with his brother had felt so familiar and yet so different. Pure, undiluted, perfection; love, companionship.

“First Guatemala and then the other night.” Dean continues softly, no accusation.

“He is helping me.” Forcing himself not to look away.

A pause as Dean waits for more.

“That’s it? He’s helping you?” Voice flat and low.

He doesn’t want to lie to Dean, doesn’t like keeping information from him but it’s for his own good.

“Yes.”

“This have anything to do with that thing you’re not explaining?” Dean presses carefully, voice still low but almost gentle now.

A quick glance to meet his eyes before they drop to Dean’s lap, one hand is balled into a fist. He doubts he even knows he’s doing it but he can’t help being wary. Can’t stop growing tense and swallowing, waiting for the blow.

“Yes.” Unsure if he should say it.

Silence. When he glances up he notices Dean has glanced down, noticed the fist he’s made in his lap. When his eyes fly up to meet Cas’ they’re full of dismay, quickly followed by guilt. Self loathing.

“I won’t, Cas I...” Releasing the fist and wiping his palms on his thighs. He can’t meet his eyes anymore. “So ah...you and Gabe...you trust him?” Glancing his way, looking at him from the corner of his eye, he can’t seem to meet his gaze for more than a moment.

“Not completely, no. But I trust him not to hurt Bobby or Sam.”

“I notice you don’t include me on that list.” Briefly looking away, half smile twisting his lips, rueful.

“He doesn’t like you.” Watching Dean closely. Waiting to see if he’s still angry.

Short huff of laughter.

“I noticed.”

“I won’t let him hurt you Dean, not again, not after what he...” Earnest and sincere. He won’t, what Gabriel did to Dean. Gabriel was angry, they both were but Gabriel could have killed Dean and...words suddenly evade him. He can’t, doesn’t want to image what would happen without Dean.

Dean stops and looks up. Mildly shocked.

“He’s your brother.” Pointing out gently.

“You would do the same for me.” Sitting up straighter. Completely sure of it.

“Yeah but...” Trailing off when he can’t seem to explain the obvious.

“Exactly.” He can’t help but point out. Dean would stop Sam from hurting him.

“You’re losing me here.” Dean’s frowning, lips twisting in confusion.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is I won’t let Gabriel hurt you. And if you’ll let me, I’ll ask him to take you and Sam to Bobby’s.”

“I don’t like it.” But he can sense that Dean is at breaking point, that he needs this. Needs to rest. To recuperate. To heal in more ways than one.

“It’s the only place you’ll be safe for long enough to heal.” He presses carefully. He won’t force him, doesn’t want to push but he wants him safe, wants Sam safe too.

“I didn’t say it was a bad plan, I just said I didn’t like it.” Sighing. “Let me call Bobby and...”

The sudden cry from the other room cuts him off.

No. This can’t be happening.

Gabriel...his grace...Sam cries out again. In pain this time. The last sounded more like surprise. His...suddenly still...Gabriel’s grace, he’s stopped falling. He isn’t falling. He can, he thought he could... He has to be able to do this. It’s so simple but important. They have to keep Sam safe, away from Lucifer, ensure that he keeps saying no.

Dean is already off the bed, sparing him a quick glance before tentatively touching his shoulder and limping out of the room.

All he can do is follow.

Gabriel’s back on the bed, or maybe he never left, he isn’t sure but the archangel has one hand on Sam’s shoulder, the other on his cheek as he shakes him. The pain sounds stop as Sam gasps awake. Eyes suddenly wide, pupils dilated. Staring right up into Gabriel’s hovering face.

“Sammy?” Dean’s stopped half way across the room and isn’t moving any closer. He won’t risk getting closer to his brother with Gabriel there. Which is when the realisation dawns that Gabriel isn’t helping, he’s making things worse for them. Doubt creeps in, is this his plan? To separate the two Winchesters? “Sam, you okay?”

Sam’s blinking up at Gabriel when he makes it over to Dean. So many doubts. Has Gabriel lied to him, tricked him? He knows just how long he spent as the Trickster. He should have been able to do this. Should have been able to protect Sam. Something so simple and yet he’s failed again. Failed at such as simple thing. Has he already fallen so far? Too far for Gabriel’s grace to help him. Too far to be useful anymore?

Gabriel removes his hand from Sam’s cheek frowning, puzzled. Hand still resting on his shoulder, almost forgotten.

“I’m fine.” Sam’s panting, brow covered in sweat. “I’m fine, it wasn’t Lucifer.”

Which makes everyone but Gabriel stop. Is it possible? It makes no sense. Lucifer is hurting Sam, giving him nightmares when he walks away, refuses to listen. It has to be Lucifer, who else would it be? Heaven? The Enochian sigils on his ribs should protect him, but if Lucifer can get through, find a way around them, then some other angel might as well. Raphael? Zachariah?

He watches as Sam sits up carefully, eyes seeking him out, then Dean. Gabriel doesn’t even try to help, just moves back and lets Dean see his brother. A movement he files away to consider later. Why wouldn’t Gabriel just help Sam? Why didn’t he continue to block Dean’s view? Too many things to rethink later. Later, after he’s let Gabriel redo the blood sigil, because it’s obvious he’s fallen too far. Dull ache settling inside his chest. He failed Sam. Failed Dean. Has left them with no other options.

“It’s alright Cas, it worked.” Sam’s suddenly reassuring him. Gaze locking with his. Trying to explain without informing Dean. He has a moment of affection for him. He didn’t fail? Hasn’t fallen too far? “It wasn’t Lucifer, it was just a nightmare.”

Relief. Relief tinged with confusion crashes in. He didn’t fail? It worked? He can...he’s not. He hasn’t fallen too far? Relief, nodding shortly and simply staring. He did it. He...he kept Sam safe. They don’t have to rely on Gabriel. If it turns out he’s lying, if he has some other agenda. He can keep Sam safe, hide him away from Lucifer. He may not be a full angel anymore but he can at least do this to help.

“Sure sounded like Lucifer was there.” Dean can’t help but interrupt. “Sounded like all the other nightmares you’ve been having.”

Which is when Sam’s eyes drop, fall away and he stops being able to meet anyone’s gaze.

“Sam?” Gabriel prompts quietly.

“He said...” Trailing off, biting his lip. Looking up, meeting Gabriel’s eyes briefly before looking down and away again. “He said the nightmares are me. That I’m torturing myself.”

“What?” Dean’s suddenly demanding, stepping closer despite Gabriel.

He can’t blame Dean for his sudden outburst. But despite the fact it’s only one word, there’s a whole world of accusation in it. Accusation which Sam doesn’t need. If Lucifer is telling the truth, if he’s not lying, then Sam needs more help than he can offer, he needs Dean.

“When did this happen? And why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Barely controlling his temper. Dean doesn’t trust his brother, he can see that now. So much is wrong between them. So much that needs to be fixed.

“I haven’t exactly had the time Dean.” And Sam’s not backing away from the brewing fight.

“What did Lucifer tell you?” He cuts in, tries to head it off, doesn’t want to see them fighting. They’ve both made mistakes and he doesn’t want to see them tear each other apart. Dean needs Sam just as much as Sam needs his older brother.

Dean’s glaring at him in frustration but he can deal with that later. Knows that Dean will listen to him later, later when he’s calmed down. A quick glance at Gabriel. Calmed down and far away from the other angel. His presence puts Dean on edge.

“When I was trapped...” An eye flick to his brother then eyes fixed back on his. “He said I was torturing myself. That...” Looking away again, eyes fixed on the floor. “That I thought I deserved to be punished.”

In the sudden silence Dean rocks back, almost swaying and he slides an arm around his waist without thought, takes the weight off his bruised and healing hips. He’s worried when Dean doesn’t even protest. Just lets him shift closer and hold him up, take more of his weight. Shock he understands but he doesn’t understand why Dean is so upset. Sam blames himself for what has happened, everything to do with the apocalypse. He’s taken full responsibility, it’s no surprise it’s gone further, into his dreams.

Gabriel’s the first to speak, he doesn’t even glare at Dean before opening his mouth for once.

“Kid listen to me, you made a mistake.” Keeping his voice soft, softer than he’s ever heard it. “No one’s going to say any different.”

Sam’s eyes still haven’t risen, gaze fixed on his fingers laying on top of the blanket.

“But you can’t keep beating yourself up about it.” Moving closer and actually sitting on the end of the bed. He watches him closely, wary, but is surprised that Dean isn’t protesting and neither is Sam.

“I...” Sam protests. Eyes finally rising to meet Gabriel’s.

“Started the apocalypse? I know. Not saying you didn’t.” Voice even, without accusation.

“So what? I just forget...?” Eyebrows rising, lines forming across his forehead in despair.

“Sam.” Dean’s finally found his voice. “Don’t give up man, that’s what he wants you to do. I’m a jerk and I don’t say it often enough but it’s not your fault.” Making sure he has Sam’s attention, his eyes flicking Dean’s way before continuing. “Neither of us thought killing Lilith was a bad idea. Ruby manipulated the hell out of you, she got you addicted to demon blood and you weren’t thinking straight, just like any addict.” Pausing but Sam barely looks up. “All I’m saying is, I know what it’s like to torture yourself. Don’t do it man, it’s not worth it.”

“I feel like we’re having an intervention.” Sam almost smiles through a huff of mirthless laughter.

“Yeah well, maybe you need one.” Dean offers.

Watery hazel eyes finally look up.

“Lucifer will use it as a path to get to you.” He finally adds. Sam can barely meet his eyes. Just a flicker of hazel and they’re gone. “The weaker you are the easier it will be for him to use you.”

“Ah, probably not the best inspirational speech Cas.” Twisted half smile then anther flicker of hazel. “But thanks.”

“So why didn’t you have nightmares before now?” Dean finally changes the subject.

“Gabriel was...” Looking up and across the room towards them, eyes finally taking in his arm wrapped around Dean, holding him up. He looks surprised, face falling into confusion but he shakes his head slightly and says nothing. Despite the confusion he can see the flash of something else behind his expression.

“I didn’t do anything.” Gabriel’s voice is quiet, aimed directly at Sam.

“What, no, you...” Protesting. “I’ve slept fine the whole time you’ve been here.”

Gabriel’s spreads his hands.

“Didn’t do a thing.” Radiating quiet sincerity and for once it’s believable.

“But I thought...” Confusion written all over his face as his fringe falls across his eyes and his fingers push it back.

“Why? What have you been dreaming about?” Suddenly smirking innuendo, which makes Sam start to blush.

“Nothing.” Looking away again.

“Reeeeally.” Gabriel elongates the word. “Cause your blush is starting to give it away.” Eyebrows dancing. “Was I good?”

“Gabriel, god, no.” Glaring at him, brows bunching tightly together. Head pulling back slightly. “I’m serious. I was dreaming about nothing. Just normal stuff. Nothing remarkable.”

“You wound me.” Mocking amusement.

“Shut up.” Rolling his eyes at the Archangel.

“So why tonight?” Dean cuts in before they can continue _that_ seriously disturbed line of conversation.

Still silence from the angels. Sam swallows and looks away. Nobody wants to say it, explain it to Dean.

“Did I miss something?” Eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Gabriel snipes.

“What the hell is your problem now?” Disbelief and irritation colouring his voice.

“Guys, cut it out.” Sam heads off the argument. Meeting Dean’s annoyed look. “They think it was seeing the blood.”

Which shuts Dean up faster than anything else. Leaning more weight against Cas.

“Was it?” Voice carefully neutral.

“I...honestly? I don’t think so.” Head shaking.

“What was the last thing you thought of before you fell asleep?” Dean prods.

Which makes Sam’s eyes swing around to Cas before quickly jerking away. And that makes Dean frown, turn his head and come face to face with startling blue eyes.

He can still feel the heat of Cas’ body up and down his side but he’d almost forgotten he was holding him up, keeping the pressure off his hips. It should probably be uncomfortable but it isn’t, he figures Cas is always pretty close, invading his personal space, so now that he’s taken it one step further, it’s almost normal. Except it really, really isn’t. But his hips have stopped screaming pain at him, so he can’t complain and he’s definitely not moving away.

Something else occurs to him.

“You didn’t think Cas could do the sigil, because last time he couldn’t make it work?” Looking over in time to see Sam considering the thought.

“Maybe.” Nodding. Eyes glancing across. “I’m sorry Cas, I just...”

“But you assumed Gabriel was protecting your sleep so you just, didn’t have any nightmares?” Dean cuts in.

“I guess.” Shrugging. “It makes sense.”

“Dude it makes no sense. You trust him,” Free hand waving at Gabriel. “More than you do Cas? That makes absolutely no sense.”

“I...He saved my life Dean.” Trying to explain.

“So what? You trust him more than Cas now?”

“No! I’m not saying that.” Sam protests.

“You’re just thinking it.” Voice an open accusation.

“Dean, stop being a jerk. You know I trust Cas.”

“Apparently you trust me more.” Gabriel can’t help but interject.

“Shut up!” Comes from two sides.

Which leaves Dean incredibly pleased, even as Gabriel smirks at them. He and Sam are on the same side again. Even if it’s only for something as petty as sniping at the archangel. Considering the last twist of conversation, that’s a huge fucking relief.


	22. Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is still recovering from his near death experience and Gabriel takes him to Bobby's house.

Bobby’s house is dusty, a fine layer of dirt everywhere, except for the books. Books that are lining the shelves and laying over every available flat surface. It’s the first thing he notices before his knees start to buckle and he’s falling, twisting, flying. Shit. Not again. He thought he was done with this. Hoped he was done with this. Gabriel merely wraps an arm around him and holds him up as his head rolls to his shoulder. Flying, shivering, cold.

“Hey.” Gabriel tightens his grip. “Come on Sam, pay attention here, where’s a couch, you need to lay down.”

And he can feel him shifting, head moving, looking around. Hair brushing lightly over his forehead, jaw rubbing against his skin. It’s enough to ground him, stop the slipping, sliding, stumbling feeling pulling at his gut. Destroying his balance and...

“Sam, come on kid, tell me where we’re going.”

“I’m not sure where we are.” And he thinks he might actually be slurring the words, he’s that weak with exhaustion.

“That’s because you closed your eyes.” He can tell Gabriel’s eyes are rolling, doesn’t need to see it, has heard the tone so much in the last few days, weeks, months. Christ has it been months since this all started? Either way it’s long enough to know. “Come on tiger, you need a bed.” Jostling him carefully.

Which is when he realises Gabriel is being careful, so careful with him.

“Open your eyes kid, or I’m leaving you on the floor.” Half threatening, half joking, he thinks, hopes.

“No you won’t.” Trying to sound sure of himself, digging deep and finding energy somewhere. Energy that feels like it’s already almost gone.

“You’re so sure about that?” Mock warning but he knows, he does know. Gabriel wouldn’t do that to him. He’s spent the last week taking care of him.

Taking care of him. He can’t remember a time when anyone but Dean took care of him.

Doesn’t mean he trusts Gabriel. Cause he doesn’t. Even Gabriel himself said he shouldn’t. That he’s only doing this to save his own little corner of the world, to bring Justice to people. Justice, the guy tortures people for fun.

“Hey, Sam.” Voice soft. “You okay? You listening to me?”

He wants to say he’s fine, just dandy but he’s not. Still so damn weak and tired. Head almost mush with exhaustion.

“Knew you shouldn’t have walked down to the car and back. Stubborn idiot.” And he’s starting to sound frustrated now. “Right, open those pretty little eyes and tell me where the hell we’re going or I’m ditching you here.” The arm around his back tightens almost painfully, makes him gasp. Eyes flying open despite how heavy they are.

Library. They’re in the library. Or the study. Whatever Bobby calls it. There used to be a couch in here but they took it out because Bobby needed more room to manoeuvre his wheelchair. So they put it in the bedroom upstairs. The closest place to crash is in the living room just down the hall.

As soon as he’s given Gabriel directions they’re there, no walking, shuffling, moving, just instantly there. He’s never been so grateful for angel powers til now. Suddenly standing next to the soft old couch.

“You’re going to sleep here?” Gabriel sounds incredulous. “You won’t fit.”

And he’s right. His legs hang off the end, his arm hangs off the side, but he can’t make it up and down the stairs. Well he could, if he wants to spend the next six months here, instead of out fighting, fixing the mess he made. Wincing. He can work on thinking this isn’t all his fault later. He can’t believe they had a damn intervention. That even Cas got involved.

Cas who he didn’t think liked him. He’s not convinced Cas does like him, except he doesn’t seem to hate him anymore and that’s an improvement. Right?

Gabriel harrumphs and sighs and a moment later there’s a click of his fingers. It’s a testament to how accustomed he’s become to that sound that he doesn’t even flinch or worry what the hell is going on. A testament to how overwhelmingly exhausted he is too.

“Alright, down we go, no flailing, you’re just going to sit first.”

It’s not his fault he smacked Gabriel in the nose the last time he helped him lay down. The twisting, twirling, tumbling hit suddenly, plummeting him into darkness. This time the darkness is caused by his eyes automatically closing.

He has a moment to wonder where the hell Bobby is, before he’s sinking into soft leather. Leather which is definitely not Bobby’s couch. When he cracks an eye open he sees dusky brown leather, the softest he’s ever felt and touched and petted. Fingers stroking the couch.

Gabriel snorts in laughter.

“I see you approve.”

It’s soft and brown and huge. Big enough to almost be called a bed and yet still not taking up all of the space in the smallish room. Gabriel is bending physics again, he can feel it. Bending physics because he wants him to have a big enough bed.

Frowning and straying away from that thought. He can’t afford to let his guard down. He can’t afford to trust Gabriel too much. Even as Gabriel keeps a hand on his shoulder to make sure he doesn’t slip one way or the other.

“You need more sleep kiddo.” Tone softly serious.

“Stop calling me that.” And he knows he sounds petulant, like a two year old but he can’t help it, it just comes out that way.

“What? Kid? Kiddo? Tiger?” Smirking down at him when he finally drags his eyes up. Up into amused hazel brown, gold. Just a glimmer of gold. “Would you prefer princess, sasquatch, gigantor, cause I gotta say...”

Groaning. Trust him to know all the names Dean calls him.

There’s a sound deeper in the house and Gabriel’s smile cuts off, eyes swinging to the door, then back down to meet his.

“I have to go.”

“What? Why?” This isn’t part of the plan.

“Did you really think I’d be hanging around?” Frown gracing his face, bringing his brows in close. “I can’t stay Sam.”

“But...” And he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. Why he’s protesting.

Is he actually saying that he doesn’t want Gabriel to go? Fear slowly spreading. The nightmares are going to come back, they’re going to make him weak. And Cas was right, the weaker he is the easier it will be for Lucifer to use him.

Gabriel’s lips quirk up in a half smile.

“I’ll be back in a few days, my turn to do the blood sigil.” Attempting a smile. “If you still want me to.” Lips twisting in aggravation. Over what, Sam doesn’t know.

They all agreed it’s what they’re going to do. That it has to be done. Why would Gabriel...Forehead lining as his eyebrows bunch in confusion. Gabriel’s lips just get thin with some unnamed emotion. Emotions Sam is sure he’s never seen on his face before. Wonders how long it’s been since they’ve passed through him. Did helping Cas do this to him? Make him like this? More emotive than he was before? He seems more...compassionate. More...something else. Something he doesn’t have time to decipher before another noise comes from deeper inside the house, closer this time.

“Just do me a favour and try not to kill yourself while I’m gone.”

He can’t help the snort of laughter.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Suddenly smiling.

Gabriel just rolls his eyes but he can see a smile at the edge of his mouth.

They hear voices and between one blink and the next Gabriel is gone.

***

Dean is grumbling, swearing, cursing.

“Fer christ sake Dean, anyone would think...see here he...” Bobby trails off as he stops in the entrance to the room, Dean right behind him. Cas trailing behind them both, not even trying to see what the hold-up is.

“Nice couch.” Dean’s mouth is tight with disapproval.

“Oh eat me.” He can’t be bothered to argue over this. Leaning back into the soft leather with a barely concealed groan. It’s soft and supple and gorgeous. He could live on this couch. Is looking forward to sleeping on it. And he doesn’t feel guilty about it, not one little bit. Not. At. All.

Dean will be sleeping in a bed, a clean bed, he can just get over it. So what if Gabriel did something nice for once. No obvious ulterior motive involved. No grand motivation or hidden agenda behind it. Just nice, nice because he wants him to heal, get well, stop being so damn dependant on him probably. Either way, whatever it is, he can deal with it. Because this, this is a nice couch. Nice couch and he’s already drifting.

Eyes cracking open to see if he can spot Cas behind Bobby and his brother, apparently helping Cas has positive side effects. Side effects he can definitely live with.

“So where is he?” Bobby’s the first the ask.

All eyes suddenly fix on him as they move into the room. Dean even sinks down into the couch beside him with a groan, then another groan as he feels how soft and gorgeous the leather is. The cushioning underneath. When Gabriel’s feeling generous he pulls out all the stops. This thing isn’t a couch, it’s a decadent work of art.

He’s too busy grinning at Dean to answer, watching his eyes close as his head tilts back against the cushioned headrest.

Bobby makes a disgusted, impatient sound.

“So?”

“Ah, he left.” Still grinning at Dean.

Watching as Dean’s eyes open to stare at him surprised.

“I think I hate you.” But there’s no malice there, Dean’s grinning back at him.

And that’s when it hits him, that it’s been months since it’s been like this between them. Easy and simple pleasure at being in each other’s company. It’s a little weird to think it’s over something Gabriel did. But right now he’s not going to question it, right now he’s just going to bask in the fact his brother is beside him and happy.

The weight on his shoulders has lifted, even if it’s only for a moment. Dean’s eyes have lost their haunted look. If he could take a photo right now he would. It won’t last and he knows that. In another second it will be gone. Replaced by distrust, miscommunication, anger, anything, everything, the weight of the world.

“Think he’d make one for me?” Dean looks like he’d happily beg.

Which makes him start laughing. Pure and simple and clear.

“No.” Shaking his head, still grinning. “Not a chance in hell.”

And Dean’s face only gets a little sour, he’s still mostly smiling.

“But I’ll share this one with you, if you want.” Offering, hoping he’ll say yes. He wants to share this. Share something good with Dean instead of all the bad things they’ve dealt with lately. Continue to deal with day to day.

“Nah, you can’t get up and down the stairs.” Dean sighs, still relaxed though.

“Cas could zap me.” And he’s seriously offering now, he really wants to share.

Neither of them get good things, it’s always scrapping money together, barely getting by.

A quick glance to Cas who nods quietly. Dean looks between them, him and Cas then nods. Smile tinged with an edge of mild disbelief.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“No problem. Just don’t blame me if Gabriel comes back and changes it in the middle of the night.”

He can see Dean struggle not to say whatever sarcastic remark comes to his lips, eyes flicking up to glance at Cas, then looking around the room.

“Are we done with the love fest?” Bobby snarks impatient.

“Sorry Bobby.” He drags his attention back to more important things. Notices that Bobby’s not really angry or even annoyed, if anything he’s actually looking pleased. “He said he’d come back in a few days.” Voice faltering a little. “To do the sigil.”

“You boys still think that’s a good plan?” And it’s obvious Bobby’s not convinced.

Doubts flitter though his mind, remembering everything bad that Gabriel has ever done. It’s not a stupid question, one that even Gabriel anticipated it would seem.

After a minute he looks up at Cas, doesn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“I thinks it’s the best plan we can come up with right now.” He’s being serious, honest, eyes holding Cas’.

Cas doesn’t look away, stares down at him with dark blue eyes, half shadowed.

“It is better if Gabriel and I alternate.” He’s agreeing. “It should ensure it’s harder for Lucifer to locate Sam.” Cas offers by way of explanation.

“How’s that?” Bobby’s a scholar right down to his bones.

Cas paces a little, moving softly between the old TV and a coffee table that’s been pushed against the wall.

“Gabriel and I have very different energy. You would perceive us as two different patterns of light. Lucifer will eventually notice what is happening but with two different patterns it will be harder for him to trace Sam.”

Sam wants to pay attention, really he does, but his eyes are already closing and Dean is actually sitting pretty close, close enough for him to feel his body heat as he slides a little sideways. Not enough to set off the falling, flying, freefall. Thank god for small mercies. But enough that he feels Dean shift closer and brace himself, allow him to rest more weight against him.

He can hear them as they continue talking. Cas answering questions that he should probably pay attention to, but Dean is here, he’s listening and Bobby’s probably taking notes so, later, he can catch up on this conversation later. Right now he can drift. They’re safe. Cas’ here. Bobby’s here. Dean’s here. Dean, after so damn long. So long it’s a deeply embedded, continuous ache. He’s missed this, missed Dean. Even though Dean’s been right here the whole time. Right here and yet he’s been gone.


	23. Sharing Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel meets up with Cas with some interesting news only to find that Cas has been injured.

Gabriel catches up with Cas on the outskirts of the Grand Canyon, a beautiful sunset on the horizon spreading neon orange and gold across the sky. Neon colours mixed with arterial spray red. Honestly, if he hadn’t spent all those years around lonely shepherds he’d never have noticed it. Never have stopped briefly to stare and try to remember what it means. If there will be bad weather tomorrow or great. Whether it means a storm or frost. Shepherds spend a lot of time discussing these things. That and not being bothered by random passers-by who happen to drop in to visit in the middle of the night. Usually to announce some monumental event like oh, say, the birth of a baby.

He remembers Mary, she was a really...

“Cas?”

Cas isn’t taking a rest like he figured he’d be doing, either that or admiring the view. He’s kneeling in the dirt, listing sideways, left hand out to stop himself from falling to the ground. There’s blood on his face, right eye almost swollen shut and his bottom lip is split open and bleeding.

When he crouches down beside him Cas just ignores him, he won’t look up, is staring off to his left. His heart is still racing and he’s clearly out of breath. Another sign of his falling, maybe not as fast as before, his grace has fixed some of the damage but not all of it. No. Some things he can’t fix entirely. And other things Cas will need him to share his grace again to fix. Leaving the door open is slowing his decent but only deliberate sharing will give him back some of what he’s lost.

He can’t have been here long.

“Stop being a stubborn idiot and let me look at you.” Because Cas really looks like crap.

“I’m fine.” Is all Cas will say.

“Right.” Rolling his eyes. “I can see you’ve picked up another charming habit from certain company.”

Cas’ eyes swing around to glare at him, level and defiant.

“So...angels or demons?” Ignoring his protests and reaching out gentle fingers to wipe blood away from his cheek, trying to assess the damage.

Which is when Cas drops his eyes again and refuses to look up.

“Either, either, or?” He presses, snapping his fingers to conjure a damp cloth and push it into Cas’ right hand so he can get to work cleaning the blood off his face. There’s too much there for him to be much help. Unless he uses his grace and he’s giving Cas a moment before he tries that.

It’s inevitable but he’s not going to push it. Looks like Cas needs a moment to pull himself together first.

“Come on bro, which was it?” Staring to worry now.

“Angels.” And his voice is so low, laced with dejection.

Ouch. That has to hurt. His own brothers and sisters have turned on him. Not just an abstract concept but physically real now. Painfully real. Whoever it was must have just attacked. He knows Cas wouldn’t have attacked first, won’t ever attack first unless he’s defending the Winchester’s. And he knows for a fact they’re back at Robert’s and fine.

It couldn’t have been one of Gabriel’s close, well they were never particularly close, he was close to... lance of pain. He doesn’t want to think about it. Millennia later and he still doesn’t want to think about it. The moment he realised... But this isn’t about him. His point was, if Raphael or Michael had attacked Cas, there’d be nothing left of him. Again.

He can’t imagine what it’d be like to be attacked by his own brothers. Raphael was always a little too pious and sure of himself, then again they all were, and why the hell is he even wasting time thinking about this? He hasn’t seen them, isn’t planning on seeing them and...he wonders if they’d attack him too. If they see his desertion as a rebellion and would try to kick his ass for it. Or if they’d welcome him back. A snort. Yeah, welcome him back and try to recruit him into their fucked up fighting, again.

A sigh, he’s been there, done that, probably has a t-shirt laying around to show for it, and definitely, is absolutely certain, he does not want to go back there. Once was enough.

The ache in vaguely familiar and disconcerting. He can remember feeling like this when he left. Mixed in amongst all the relief and curiosity about humans. Up til then he’d only spent a little time amongst them. More than his brothers but still not much. Bringing Mary the good news of her impending parenthood. Telling Zacharias that his wife would have John, and then cursing him to be mute til the child was born1. Well the guy did refuse to believe the news. Smirking. Dad never did complain about that little addition to his message.

And the ache comes back in full force.

Dragging his eyes away from his brother to stare out at the sunset. The sun dipping below the horizon now. Leaving the upper sky in deepest, darkest blue light.

Humans have always fascinated him, in ways his brothers couldn’t understand. Raphael agreed they had a place and he was content to do his duty. Michael would follow their father’s orders just on principle. Their father’s word was Law. Except apparently now it isn’t. And Lucifer...Lucifer...Proud, arrogant, he was the first to bring arrogance to Heaven. Arrogance, then hate.

Fascination with them and living amongst them was two different things he’d discovered. Being apart from his family, or what was left of it, although it was a relief it had been, disconcerting. Suddenly alone. Forever fucking alone. Better than going home though. Going home to a hollow place, stained, torn apart, left looking like a war zone. Lower levels of angels still flying around in a daze from killing their brothers and sisters. No one ever really recovered from the war.

Like humans who see death and slaughter and incredible pain or suffering, and smell like fear for the rest of eternity. They weren’t equipped to deal with fighting each other, and Dad, Dad just... he was already falling silent. Rarely seen anymore. He should have known, foreseen what was coming but it was just...unfathomable. Why? How could he leave them? One day present, barely there, but still giving orders. Sometimes absent for a short time but always somewhere in Heaven, and then the next day, gone.

Abandoned them or dead. He’s finally decided it doesn’t matter. He’s God. Nothing would happen unless he willed it so.

Shying away from that thought and pulling himself back together to glance at Cas. The only family he has left. His own little brother. Little brother who’s stopped bleeding at least. His coat and shirt clean again. Even if the tie is still skewed to the side. Is always skewed to the side. He wonders if Cas even understands the function of his clothes. Why his vessel was wearing them when he took him. Why he chose them. What any of it means apart from blending in with the rest of society.

Why does he cling to them? If he doesn’t understand what they mean or what they’re for, why does he refuse to take them off? Why is there almost an argument just to get him to take his damn trench coat off?

Smiling, watching Cas out the corner of his eye. Cas doesn’t argue. He’s stubborn and loyal and clings to his faith. But he doesn’t argue. He’ll protest, he’ll refuse, he’ll ignore him if he tries to push too hard, but he never argues. On one hand he’s the perfect little brother, reminds him of the good things that home used to be. On the other hand he’s frustrating and annoying and stubborn and too fucking sure of himself and his quest to find Dad.

Dad is gone, Dad is dead, Dad is not coming home. Is never coming back.

He sits on the ground beside him, gets comfortable and watches as Cas eyes him warily.

“Sit down, get comfortable, this’ll probably take awhile.”

The sigh is almost imperceptible, and it’s kind of insulting.

“What? You don’t want my help? What were you doing to get noticed by angels anyway?”

Cas just looks weary, unhappy, and he wants to take the words back.

“Just get comfortable, or not, whatever, and give me your hand.”

“Why are you following me?” Cas stalls.

He can’t help but grin at that.

“We’ll get to that later. You staying like that? Or are you going to get comfortable?” A thought occurs to him. “Or did you want to go somewhere else?”

Cas shifts finally, slowly and sits tailor style, pausing for a moment. A moment in which he rolls his eyes and gestures impatiently with his outstretched hand. Finally Cas reaches out and lets Gabriel take his hand in his. Palm to palm, hands dangling between them, the warmth of his grace starts to flow.

“You’d think I was impinging your virtue.” Another eye roll as he opens his grace up a little more and watches as Cas’ eyes close and his face turns away a little. There’s already moisture gathering along his lashes.

He wants to mock, to ask if this is what Cas is going to do every time he has to do this but...he won’t. He can’t. He knows what this feels like. Can feel the backwash of affection, companionship. The temperature around them is rapidly dropping and yet he’s warm. The familiar feeling of safety sinking in. It’s an illusion but it’s a nice one. One of the best.

Cas bites his newly healed lower lip as the first tear falls, sliding softly down his clean cheek to vanish into the slowly descending dark. If he looks hard enough he can see the mark it’s made on Cas coat. It’s only then that he realises he’s squeezed Cas hand tight, offering comfort. This thing, this sharing thing, is turning him into something, someone he hasn’t been in too long and he’d rather not remember.

Someone he only was around his brothers. Brothers he no longer has by any definition. He walked away, cut them off.

And this has to stop. He can’t keep thinking about this. Doesn’t want to keep thinking about this. Why the fuck _is_ he thinking about this? It doesn’t change anything and makes him fucking miserable. Clinging to Cas’ hand in the middle of nowhere. Warm and not alone. This isn’t who he is and it isn’t who he wants to be.

He doesn’t have to ask to know that Cas is feeling better. Can feel it as he starts to heal and see it as his swollen eye deflates and glows vivid blue as he blinks for the first time. Both eyes suddenly open. Which means his own eyes are probably glowing molten gold in the twilight. Great. June bug again. Letting his own eyes briefly close.

“I followed you here because I found something you might be interested in.” Distracting them both from the connection.

Cas turns silent eyes on him and patiently waits. Calm and serene. It’s fucking disgusting.

“Do you still have the dagger with you?” Distraction, stick to the conversation, stop thinking about the connection.

Because he wants to see the dagger, can’t feel it anymore and...it’s important. He really hopes Cas hasn’t left it in Robert’s hands. Even if he does agree that Robert can research it faster and more accurately than the Winchester brothers. Even faster than Sam and that kid spends way too much time doing research and not enough time having fun. Despite that, he doesn’t want it out of _their_ hands. It’s theirs until someone tells him otherwise. Smirking softly. That someone being Dad and it’s not like _that’s_ going to happen.

Cas left hand reaches into his trench coat and instantly he can feel the tug of attraction again. The bittersweet glimmer of Dad. He wants to tell Cas to put it away, do whatever he’s been doing to keep it hidden. But he can’t, he needs to feel it. Needs to know.

Taking a breath he reaches out to take it from him. Cas hesitates for a moment, barely a second in which he doesn’t let go. Gabriel can feel it, his reluctance. Their fingers touching on the handle, side by side, middle finger hovering over Cas’. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, stupid damn grace sharing, but it’s patently obvious that Cas still doesn’t trust him. At least not completely. He hasn’t asked to hold it before, has always told him to put the damn thing away. And now Cas is hesitating.

The backlash of pain and betrayal and stubborn arrogance is razor sharp and vicious. Everything Lucifer brought to Heaven. Damnit! Trying to hold onto the warmth, the love, the companionship. Shut down the negative and share only the positive. Cas doesn’t need to know what it was like for him. How it was, how it felt.

He knows he’s failed to shut it all down when Cas’ eyes widen and something close to horror rushes to fill them. Fuck! Looking away and dropping his hold on the dagger. Of all the things Cas didn’t need to feel, didn’t need to know. That was top of the fucking list. Great. Just perfect.

He swears on his wings that if Cas looks at him in pity, he’s taking his damn grace and leaving.

But when he dares to look, Cas’ eyes are on the dagger, then they glide over to their joined hands and slowly slide up to his face. There isn’t pity, there’s something akin to understanding. Which for some stupid reason is worse. Because it occurs to him that that is the Heaven Cas is somehow familiar with. The Heaven he lived in since he was created. Whilst Gabriel was out in the world, forgetting Heaven, Cas was there living it. Living the aftermath, everything all the way up til the angels losing all faith.

Cas isn’t offering to hand over the dagger though. Despite their new understanding, Cas is keeping it to himself. Slowly sliding it back inside his trench coat. Tug of it suddenly cut and gone.

He nods slightly and acknowledges that the dagger belongs to Cas. It’s his and no one else’s. He found it and there isn’t much hope of anyone getting him to let it go. A few things slot into place. It’s his connection to Dad. The symbol of a long absent father he still has faith in.

Which just makes his news that much more interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * _Luke 1: (19) And answering, the angel said to him, I am Gabriel, who stands before God. And I am sent to speak to you and to show you these glad tidings. (20) And behold, you shall be silent and not able to speak until the day that these things shall be performed, because you did not believe my words which shall be fulfilled in their time._
> 
> Gabriel being a snarky, tricksy angel is bible!canon.
> 
> I’ll never be able to read the bible the same way again, because now I read that with Richard Speight Jr speaking the lines all flippant and mocking. :P


	24. Rightful Owner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Cas arrive at Bobby's with a rifle but it isn't just an ordinary rifle.

They’re still at Bobby’s, despite the fact Dean’s hips and ribs are almost completely healed, he’s still stiff and aching, but he can drive again. A fact he celebrated by taking his baby out for an hour, alone. Dean needs to be on the road. Needs to be moving. Doesn’t like to sit still, stay in one place for too long. Even if it is Bobby’s house and they’re safe here. Safer here than anywhere else.

Sam’s stronger than he was but weaker than he’d like to be. It’s nowhere near as bad as it was. He can make it up and down Bobby’s stairs without his knees buckling now. Which is nice. Even if he does have to rest at the bottom afterwards. He doesn’t want Dean to know, can’t let him see how shaky he feels just from that simple exercise. He’ll hover or give him that demoralised, guilty look, right before his shoulders slump and he looks away. Unable to bear witness to what he’s done.

He doesn’t blame Dean. Dean just...he didn’t think. He made a mistake. They’ve both made so many mistakes. Ruby, demon blood, killing Lilith. The list is so long. Dropping his eyes to the table, so Dean almost killed him, he started the Apocalypse, started the end of the world and at some point he just has to let it go, forgive him. Trust is another issue entirely, running a hand through his hair, yeah, forgiveness is hard enough but trust is even worse.

At least they’re both well enough now that Cas has stopped hovering and started going out for a day or two at a time. Back to searching for his absent father. He doesn’t know what he thinks about the search. He wants to hope, he really does, he wants to have faith, but he’s not sure he does anymore. He grew up thinking angels were there to protect him, that angels were pure and good, and look how that turned out. The angels are dicks. The _angels_ machinations put them on the path to the apocalypse. Not that he didn’t play his part in starting it, he’s not shirking that responsibility, but the angels played a role too. A huge fucking role. Even Cas...shying away from that.

Cas is helping, he made the ultimate sacrifice, regardless of coming back, and they still haven’t figured out how exactly that happened. God? Lucifer? He wants it to be God. Wants a sign, any sign, that God is still here, still playing a role, but too much has gone wrong, too many things have just...fallen apart.

Though things with Dean have gotten better. The sharp edges of the last few months have started to wear down. Nothing is softer, just, less likely to cut him. Finally, they can manage to have a conversation without a serious argument. Arguments are unavoidable. Snorting. He’d be worried if they didn’t argue. But it’s nice not to have to tip toe around things, weigh every word.

So now that they’re finally feeling better, they’re both starting to itch for the road. Filthy motel rooms, crappy food aside, it feels wrong to be in one place too long. Neither of them can enjoy it anymore. Maybe it’s the apocalypse, maybe it’s the never ending guilt. Wanting to fix it, stop what they’ve started. Whatever it is, as much as they love Bobby, they can’t stay here.

So even though they’re not quite up to it, they’re already planning their next hunt. Two possibilities spread across the kitchen table between them. Witches still killing in Ohio and what’s probably a Woman-in-white in Colorado. Dean’s arguing for Colorado. He’s not disputing the choice. It’s closer, so Dean’s aching hips won’t take a beating from their first road trip, and women in white are definitely easier to deal with than witches. With both of them still out of shape it’s not a good idea to tangle with witches.

He wants to feel guilty about the fact people are still dying in Cleveland. Soft snort. Honestly, he does feel guilty, but he feels guilty about a lot of things right now. And not being able to get to Cleveland first, when there’s thousands of other people dying because of what he’s done...There’s only so much guilt he can wallow in and he’s finally reached his limit. He can feel guilty about Cleveland when they’re done in Colorado.

Five men missing in the first two months he started keeping tabs, and three more in the last month. And that’s in addition to the dozen or so spread out over a decade before the apocalypse started. Suppressing the urge to sigh. There’s a lot more ghosts active and killing since Lucifer rose. Ghosts, creatures and of course demons. And they’ve been out of action, hurt or recovering, for almost an entire month.

Two weeks here and Bobby’s just starting to get sick of them. Despite Dean helping out wherever he can, most likely just to stifle the boredom. Running errands, buying groceries. Even cooking, when Bobby lets him. Which is why Bobby’s getting frustrated, they want to help and that’s fine, so long as Bobby sees it as help and not the two of them treating him like an invalid. The slightest hint of that and he’s cursing, lightly knocking into Dean with his wheelchair in lieu of kicking him in the pants.

It was funny until he automatically made Bobby breakfast and coffee yesterday and got a glare and a curse of his own.

It’s not like Bobby was ungrateful, just...frustrated. He can’t imagine how frustrating it must be to watch the two of them get healthier every day, and still be stuck in that chair.

Which had him laying awake last night, sunk into the soft leather of his ridiculously comfortable couch. Couch which Gabriel made, for no apparent reason other than he didn’t like Bobby’s old one. And that’s the problem, or the solution, he’s not quite sure. Gabriel is helping them, helping him, and not just with Lucifer’s dream-walking. Gabriel saved his life, again, healed him, and that’s what played through his mind at 5am, listening to Dean get up. Gabriel could heal Bobby. He hasn’t offered to, and Sam’s not sure Bobby trusts the angel enough to let him. But he’s pretty sure Gabriel could do it. He’s just not sure if he would.

He’s trying to decide if it’s worth tempting fate, angering both Dean _and_ Bobby by broaching the subject when the Archangel arrives. A moment later Cas is beside him.

***

Across from him Dean looks up from the newspaper clipping he’s been reading and starts to smile, until he notices that Gabriel’s holding a rifle in his hands. Sam can feel the tension start to rise. It’s a bit ridiculous to be worried about an _Archangel_ who can smite them with a single thought, carrying a weapon. It’s not like he needs the rifle to do them any harm and yet, instinct, too many years of training, hunting, all of it screams at him to do something.

“Oh for...” Huff of annoyed breath as Gabriel puts the rifle between them on the kitchen table. “See.” Hands rising, palms out. “No weapon and yet I can still do this.” A click of his fingers and a smirk as Sam’s laptop turns into a flower pot. The pretty purple and pink flowers waving slightly in the breeze from the open window beside them.

He can’t help the glare of annoyance. Gabriel’s proved his point, a point he’s sure Dean was already aware of.

“We get the point.” He grinds out, adrenaline still fizzing in his veins. Like and unlike demon blood. Which he is not thinking about right now, definitely not thinking about it.

“Are you sure?” Head tilting. “I’m not so sure.” Tone light and mocking.

“Gabriel.” Cas intones from beside him, gently chiding.

A moment of silence passes and he continues to glare before Gabriel rolls his eyes and turns it back. He wants to focus on Gabriel, on the rifle but he can’t help it as his eyes drag towards his laptop, visually inspecting that it’s back in one piece, unharmed. He’s gone through three in the past year and he doesn’t want to have to scam another one out of some innocent store clerk. Admittedly the last time it was Dean who broke his computer, so it was Dean who scammed his latest one, with smiles and easy flirtation.

Dean’s already reaching for the rifle and hefting it towards him with confident hands.

“What’s with the rifle?” He wants to know, letting Dean take care of the initial inspection.

Gabriel is silent for once, watching Dean, so it’s Cas who responds.

“It’s another relic.” Explaining quietly.

“Of God?” He can’t help the surprise. Brows rising automatically. “You found another one?”

Because that isn’t weird, no, not at all. Two in a few months. And only since Gabriel showed up.

“Gabriel discovered it,” Cas explains.

“Where?” Eyes swinging round to focus on Gabriel, Gabriel who’s a little distracted, watching Dean’s hands caress the wooden stock, the metal barrel.

It doesn’t look any different than a standard rifle. A little old maybe but wood shining, perfectly clean and in pristine condition. Reminds him of rifles he’s seen in WWII photo’s and movies. Almost completely wooden, from stock to lower hand guard, even the upper hand guard is wood. The barrel, firing mechanism, trigger and magazine the only metal parts. Magazine which Dean is carefully removing and inspecting.

“Gabriel?” Prodding quietly.

His eyes swing round for a moment then fall back to Dean who’s put the rifle down to examine the cartridges that were in the magazine.

“It was in a museum.” Is all he offers to begin with, clearly still distracted.

“A museum?” Frowning.

An eye roll.

“Yes the National World War II museum in New Orleans. Want the address?” Snarking.

“What were you doing in a museum?” It’s hard to get his head around. Gabriel, Archangel, Trickster...in a Museum?

“Mmmmm...” And he’s smiling at Sam, eyes, attention suddenly focused on him. “Working.”

“Working?” Momentarily baffled til Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows, with a quirk of his lips. “Oh...”

“You wouldn’t believe the number of assholes who work in a museum.” Smirking. “Plenty to keep me busy for a few...”

But he suddenly stops. Goes still in a way no human ever gets, head turning slowly, eyes narrowing on Dean’s hands. Cas is suddenly inhumanly still too, and he wasn’t even moving to begin with, but this is different, so very, very different. His eyes a little wide and tension starts to rise. Dean already has the upper hand guard off and next to him on the table. The barrel is just sliding free from the recoil plate.

They all watch as he gently places the stock on the table and moves to... Gabriel makes a noise, something high but the undertone deep and impossible, his face rapidly going from blank to outraged. Quick glance at Cas and he’s looking mildly horrified.

“Ahhh Dean...” Trying to keep his voice low and neutral. Keeping his eyes on the angels but reaching out to grab the barrel of the rifle. “I think you should stop what you’re doing.”

If Dean heard the noise Gabriel made he’s ignoring it, or something is seriously wrong here. When he reaches over and pushes the barrel down firmly, out of Dean’s hands he looks up surprised, eyes jerking up in annoyance. Until he reads something in his face, and lets his gaze be dragged over to the angels.

Angels which are still not moving, possibly not even breathing, just staring. Twin gazes fixed on the gun.

“I think you should put it back together.” Suggesting quietly.

Gabriel’s eyes glide slowly between the half stripped rifle and Dean’s hands.

“Or maybe I should.” Changing his mind. Tipping Gabriel over into rage instead of outrage is probably not a good idea. Definitely not a good idea for Dean’s continued health.

It takes a moment to orient himself with the rifle’s construction. A moment before he’s rapidly putting it back together. He can remember drills his Dad used to make them do, just like in the Marines. Stripping down a weapon and putting it back together on a timer. And typically Dean turned it into a competition. He’s good, he knows he’s good, but Dean was always better. And not just because he has four years on him. Dean is just better at it, not by much, but it’s enough.

Enough for him to gloat over. He thinks Dean spent as much time practicing with hand guns, rifles, knives, any weapons their Dad handled; as he himself spent studying when they were growing up. Dean never seemed to want another life, never seemed to stop and consider he had a way out. He just followed orders. Followed orders whilst he was off studying, dreaming, praying for a way out.

When he looks up, rifle rebuilt in his hands, both angels are breathing again. Gabriel looks marginally calmer, only the faintest hint of gold flickering like a candle behind his eyes. Cas is, for the first time since he’s known him, Cas’ eyes are radiant, vivid blue. Not glowing like Gabriel’s but definitely not their ordinary intense blue.

They’ve been doing it again, whatever it is that Gabriel does, whatever it is he’s doing to help Cas, they’ve done it again.

Which is when Bobby rolls into the room, oblivious to the tension, or he decided to make an entrance because he noticed it. He’s not sure which it is but he’s grateful. Gabriel hasn’t taken his eyes off the rifle again. Hasn’t reached for it, snatched it back, but it looks like he wants to. So why doesn’t he?

“What are you idjits up to now?” Rolling closer to Gabriel who doesn’t back away.

Bobby doesn’t stop until he’s as close as he can get to the table, quite possibly pressing wheels against Gabriel’s foot.

“Where the hell did that come from?” And there’s an edge to his voice, something, something he can’t explain.

Silence.

“The National World War II Museum,” he explains when no one else offers the information.

Cas is still looking uncomfortable and Dean is frowning like he’s missed something. Which isn’t like him and he wants to ask what Dean remembers, if he remembers disassembling the rifle, the sound Gabriel made, any of it, because something weird is going on.

“You’re stealing war artifacts now?” He doesn’t sound impressed. Then curious. “What’s so special about it?” Tilting his head up to watch Gabriel, then frowning over at Cas.

The angels are still not talking.

“It’s another relic, like the Mayan dagger Cas found.” He offers into the silence.

“Oh.” A long pause. “What was a museum doing with it?”

Right hand reaching out and the moment his fingers touch the wooden stock Gabriel’s eyes go wide, suddenly glowing gold. Dean doesn’t react and he has a moment to consider jumping between Bobby and the Archangel. A second before Gabriel’s legs buckle and he’s crashing to the floor.

“What in hell?” Bobby’s rolling backwards, moving away from the fallen angel.

Fallen angel who’s gasping for air on the cheap linoleum, both hands pressed into the floor.

“Gabriel?” Concern echoing between his and Cas’ voices.

“Tell me you felt that?” Gabriel eyes roll up to look at them, watching Cas through hair that’s fallen across his face, partially obscuring his eyes. Eyes that are glowing molten, steady gold. No longer flickering. It reminds him of something, something half forgotten, barely remembered. Hand on his chest, smooth palm on his face. Rage and fear and...

“The pendant has grown warm.” Cas informs him, tone slightly confused.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean is very carefully asking. Probably trying not to attract too much attention from Gabriel.

Gabriel who’s still kneeling on the floor, hands still pressing down. More strands of hair covering his eyes til it’s like watching a tiger through a cage. Contained, but still vaguely threatening.

He wants to back up, get Dean away, get Bobby the hell away, but Bobby...fuck! Bobby has the rifle in his lap. Fingers lax, thumb twitching, almost stroking over the barrel. What the fuck is going on?

***

Gabriel catches his eyes as they widen and then slowly turns his head to gaze at Bobby. Bobby who’s suddenly fixated on the rifle in his lap. Fingers giving in to the twitch and just caressing over the wood, the barrel, over the trigger and down to the empty magazine slot.

Fingertips lingering, questing, searching for something.

He can only watch as Gabriel’s fingers slide silently across the table top, come into contact with the empty magazine and the cartridges. Sending one or two scattering over the table edge to rain down on the floor. Nimble fingers load the magazine without looking, eyes fixed on Bobby, on the rifle, fingers pushing cartridges into position, then turning slightly, reaching out, offering up the loaded magazine.

It’s...This is Bobby. He shouldn’t, doesn’t want to doubt him. But suddenly there’s adrenaline rushing through his veins like wildfire. Heart pounding, rhythm hammering in his chest. Bobby, this is Bobby. Bobby and a goddamned relic. Relic of God. God who’s absent. Who may be absent but left his tools laying around. And they have no idea what it’s capable of, what it’s going to do.

“Bobby.” Barely breathing his name.

But he doesn’t seem to be listening. Just takes the magazine from Gabriel and slides it into place. Soft metallic click loud in the dense silence. He wants to check on Dean, check to see what he’s thinking, but he can’t tear his eyes away. Can only watch as Bobby raises the rifle and sights down the barrel.

Directly at Gabriel.

***

Gabriel’s not moving, not getting out of the way, simply sliding, elegant movements full of strength and grace. Turning til he’s facing the rifle, rising up on his knees, arms falling to his sides, chin tilting back, eyes staring, locked on Bobby’s face. He’s giving Bobby the perfect target. Calm and unmoving. Waiting.

***

There’s a moments pause. Silence as his heart kicks faster, harder against his ribs. Silence and enough time to wonder what the fuck he should do. Should he stop Bobby? Will a bullet from the rifle hurt Gabriel? Can one of God’s relics hurt an Archangel? Can it kill him? Could it kill Lucifer?

Another moment and Bobby finally lowers the barrel. Gabriel doesn’t move. Is still not moving. Both of them still staring at each other in utter silence. Bobby’s eyes are still fixed, unmoving from Gabriel’s face. Pupils pin pricks of dark amongst so much light. Not quite glowing like Gabriel, but a vivid circle of colour like Cas’ still are. It’s eerie and unnatural and something is happening and he’s not convinced it’s anything good.

Even if the rifle is a holy relic something about this is just not right.

“Bobby.” Dean’s voice is hoarse, dry. “Maybe you should put the gun down.”

He finally wrenches his gaze away to watch Dean shift carefully, slowly in his chair, legs moving around til he’s facing the wheelchair.

“Bobby?” Adding his own voice to Dean’s. “Can you hear me?”

Cas is the one to step forward and break the stillness surrounding the Archangel and the other man. The first to move closer. Hand reaching forward to rest on Gabriel’s shoulder, squeezing softly. He doesn’t say anything but that’s all it takes.

Gabriel’s sudden intake of breath is sharp, audible to all in the room and finally, finally Bobby blinks. Pupils blowing out wide, wider than normal but leaving a perfect ring of colour. He’s never stopped to question what colour they are before and now he can’t decide if they’re green or blue. The colour too dark and the light suddenly dimmer. Dimmer? What the fuck is going on?

“Cas?” Looking to him for answers.

“I don’t know.” But he doesn’t seem deeply troubled, just a little concerned, eyes swinging over to Dean. “Dean?”

“I’m fine. Just fucking peachy.” Sniping angry, obviously uncertain and hating it. “What the fuck is going on?!”

If Cas is asking, is worried enough to turn to Dean then something happened, something was happening while he stripped the rifle down. And yet nothing happened when he touched it, or did it? He didn’t notice anything happening, just metal and wood in his hands. He has to talk to Dean, has to question him. Later though, right now they still have other problems to worry about.

“I don’t know.” Cas’ eyes look troubled now as he squeezes Gabriel’s shoulder again. He’s still kneeling on the floor, slumped forward slightly, falling in on himself, head tilted downward to stare at his knees. “Brother?” Tone uncertain.

That’s new. He’s never heard Cas say it before. No matter how many times Gabriel’s called Cas his little brother or simply bro, Cas has never acknowledged the connection. Is it because Gabriel is helping him? And how exactly is he doing that?

“The relic has chosen its rightful owner.” Gabriel’s voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse, raspy.

“Say again?” Bobby’s finally capable of speech.

Gabriel looks up, listless.

“A long, long time ago, in a land far, far away...” He begins, smirk only a slight twist of his lips. Eyes dull, glowing gold gone, lids half closed.

Cas blinks at him perplexed. Gabriel sighs but doesn’t roll his eyes, just shifts his weight a little, getting comfortable but not getting up off the floor.

“The relics have a rightful owner, usually a righteous man, or a pure virgin, every now and then it’d be some warrior or another, out on a stupid quest.” Trying for flippant but he merely sounds exhausted.

“Do I look like a righteous man to you?” Bobby’s demanding.

“Maybe you’re a virgin.” Gabriel’s head tilts as he smiles at him wanly.

“Or I could shoot you in the ass you arrogant bastard.”

“You had your opportunity, you didn’t take it,” he points out quietly.

Sam’s reeling, trying to get a handle on the conversation, what’s happening right before his eyes. What the hell does Gabriel mean, the relic will have a rightful owner? Bobby is the rightful owner? Why Bobby? Why not Dean, or him, or even Cas? And why didn’t Bobby shoot him?

“Why _didn’t_ he shoot you?” He can’t help but ask.

Gabriel shrugs but his eyes slide away then back to the gun.

“Just a formality.” Back to whisper soft.

“A formality. Right.” Dean’s back to sniping. “Care to elaborate on that?”

Another quiet shrug.

“Not really.” Voice hoarse like he’s talked too much.

“Bobby?” Watching as Dean turns to look at him. “Care to explain?”

“I don’t know, I just...” Bewildered look transforming his features. “I didn’t want to shoot him.” Like it’s the most logical thing in the world and yet the most confusing at the same time.

“And now?” Sam can’t help but ask.

“As tempting as it is.” Pausing to think it over, then frowning. “No. At least not with this gun.”Eyes drifting back to the Archangel. “Give me another one and I might change my mind.”

Cas’ hand is still touching Gabriel’s shoulder and he’s starting to wonder if he’s helping him stay upright. Every few seconds he seems to sway a little and he’s moving closer, leg sliding behind Gabriel’s back for him to lean against. Whatever happened, whatever’s going on, and he’s pretty sure no one but Gabriel knows what exactly happened, and good luck getting a straight answer out of him. But whatever’s going on, Gabriel’s drained. Physically and from the dip of his eyes, possibly mentally too.

He’s not sure if he should ignore the state the archangel’s in or offer him help. The couch Gabriel made would be the perfect place for him to rest, but would he take the offer graciously, or protest, or even worse, be insulted. Cas’ being subtle about his assistance, so maybe it’s better to stay quiet. A quick glance over at Dean and it’s obvious he’s noticed it too. They have a moment to share a look before Gabriel surges to his feet and with a rustle of feathers both angels are gone.


	25. Cave In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who, what, where, why and how of holy relics. Gabriel has some explaining to do.

Gabriel’s knees buckle, whole body sliding to the ground the moment they arrive. Ground which is covered in soft sand and dirt. Rock wall curving up and above them, shielding them from above and two sides. Other sides exposing them to crisp blue sky and deep red earth. Red, impossibly, unsettlingly red. He can hear water nearby, light splashing but there’s no one here but them, sighing softly in relief. They need privacy, now is not a good time to deal with strangers.

Not when Gabriel’s sitting silently on the semi-cave floor, back to the multihued wall, horizontal stripes of yellow, orange, and gold. A stripe of grey embedded halfway up the wall. Wall that Gabriel is leaning his back against, knees drawn up, wrists resting across them. Head bowed, staring at the earth between his shoes in silence.

Silence he’s not sure if he should break.

His brother’s face is obscured by chaotic strands of hair. Hair covering what little of his face Gabriel hasn’t turned away. He doesn’t seem to be breathing but Gabriel is an Arch. He...he’s not sure what is wrong, what happened with Bobby. He could feel...something. Frustrated, indefinable. Soft sense of warmth and rightness and love. Similar to what he feels when Gabriel shares his grace and yet different. An underlying current of something else, something overwhelmingly strong and certain.

“Gabriel?” Questioning softly.

But he doesn’t look up, doesn’t respond, doesn’t seem to have heard, is still curling away from the rock. Head bowed, eyes fixed on the ground between his feet. One hand trailing down to slide into the red earth. Sweat from his palm turning it a deeper, darker shade.

Whatever happened seems to have exhausted him. Which is disturbing and wrong. Nothing has ever exhausted him before. Sharing his grace doesn’t seem to affect him, doesn’t seem to tire him at all, and yet whatever happened at Bobby’s has left him slumped and unmoving. Drained.

All he can do is wait, give him a moment and hope. Hope that this isn’t permanent. Hope that nothing irreversible has happened. Can only look away and stare out across the uninterrupted blue sky, unmarked by rain or storm clouds. Only a bird of prey wheeling in the distance.

Stare out across endless red earth, a bare whisper of breeze before Gabriel makes a sound. A pained, choked sound and every muscle tenses, eyes wrenching back to stare. Another sound, wet and wretched this time. Gabriel is...may be...Another choked off sound. He shouldn’t, if he is...when Dean cries he doesn’t like him drawing attention to it, doesn’t tell him to leave, but he doesn’t like it when he stares. When he watches too closely. So if Gabriel is crying, if he is crying...he should say nothing, should stay silent. Should look away.

Shouldn’t ask why. Shouldn’t stare, should continue to stay silent. Give him the illusion that he’s alone.

So he stays, standing, watching the sky and pretending he can’t hear the sounds his brother is making.

***

Gabriel has never cried in his presence. If he is crying, he may be wrong...another soft sound, choked off, breathing sharp. He’s seen him furious, angry, amused, even hysterical but never...the hysteria was close to this. The night he found the dagger. Dagger he’s still carrying inside his trench coat. Dagger which is one of his Father’s tools, just as the rifle is. Rifle that Gabriel gave to Bobby. Simply handed it over, abandoned it.

Did he abandon it? Or was he telling the truth? Has the rifle gone to its rightful owner? Eyes lingering on Gabriel shaking shoulders. Does that mean his dagger has a rightful owner? Should he be looking for them? Should he hand it over to someone else? Someone he may not know? How will he know if they’re worthy? Muscles clenching. Will he be like this when it’s over?

Glancing down at his brother; emotional, exhausted, drained?

Gabriel makes another sound, shoulders shuddering this time and he can’t help biting his lip. He should do something, should he help? But if it were Dean, Dean wouldn’t appreciate any attempt at comfort. Dean didn’t appreciate his previous attempt at comfort. The night after he forced Dean to torture Alastair.

Perhaps because Dean believed the entire catastrophe to be his fault. Gaze drifting to the red stained ground, he should never have allowed it to happen. Should have forced Uriel...Uriel, another failure. Shoulders slumping slightly. Failure to foresee what was happening right in front of him. Uriel who betrayed them all.

***

Gabriel is silent for a long time, minutes turning into an hour but he has no desire to leave. Even if he suspects Gabriel would have already left if he could. Would have vanished long ago if it were possible. But he suspects he can’t. He can’t and the fact he can’t, is that exhausted, is starting to concern him. Worry him more than Gabriel’s tears. He knows how it feels to be weak, to be without the full strength of his grace. But Gabriel has never been without it. Never known the feeling and he doesn’t want him to know it now. Something has gone wrong. Terribly wrong.

“Gabriel.”

He’s been patiently waiting, waiting for Gabriel to pull himself together, speak to him, explain what’s going on, but there’s only been silence. Silence after the sounds that may have been crying.

“What happened to brother?” Gabriel’s voice is hoarse, rasping as though long disused.

“Brother?” Relief rushing in.

“Last time I checked.” Whispered flippancy.

And silence falls again.

How to ask... So many questions but where to start? Why did he put himself in harms way? Where do the relics come from? Were they made for a purpose? Can a relic hurt him? Harm any angel? Could it kill Lucifer? Should they use a relic to kill Lucifer? Are there more? Should he be looking for them?

“Dad,” Every time he utters the word it’s laced with so much pain. So much pain and he’s only beginning to understand. They all know the history of the Arch’s. How Michael and Lucifer were close, how Raphael was once known as the Protector, and Gabriel the Arch of Justice and their Father’s voice and spent much time in His presence. Some rumours say he spent more time with their Father than any other Arch.

Gabriel’s head finally tilts back, dull eyes staring up, head resting against the rock.

“He made holy relics sometimes.” Swallowing slowly. “It was our job to take them to their rightful owner.”

The ‘our’ he’s referring to is obvious and clear. Only the Arch’s would have been tasked with such an important duty.

“Was it always so...” But how to ask?

Floundering. How to ask if it is always so painful? So draining? How long will his current state last? Will it be permanent now, despite being a part of Heaven, a piece of its essence, has he been away too long, has his time as the Trickster left a mark?

But Gabriel only blinks at him, eyes passive and dry. Hands stained red from sweat and earth. It’s unsettlingly like dried blood and he doesn’t like the image of his brother with blood stained hands.

“I haven’t been a Relic Bearer in a very long time.” Voice still hoarse, then dropping to a whisper. “It used to be an honoured duty.” Slowly blinking, breath sighing into the silence. Water still washing over stones.

“You...” But the words fail.

“Are a pagan god? A Trickster? Not much better than a fallen angel?” Words laced with bitterness. Then into the hushed silence after, “It wasn’t my place.”

A moment later his brothers eyes widen then dart away, bottom lip held tightly between his teeth. Stopping himself from speaking again.

Gabriel believes he is unworthy? Unworthy to carry their Father’s tools? Blinking, unable to look away. Is he? Has he been gone so long that he no longer deserves his place as an Arch? Has he become too much the Trickster, a pagan god, to be worthy of touching God’s tools?

He can only watch in silence as Gabriel rubs one palm against the other, dry flakes like old blood falling to the cave floor.

Gabriel has been gone so long. Has done many things that were once considered blasphemous. And yet, he can’t condemn him. Zachariah and Raphael have done far worse. They set in motion the Apocalypse. All of them have lost their faith but Gabriel, at least, has not actively sought the end of the world. Has not sought to destroy their Father’s creations.

He has not hunted him, hurt him, killed him for attempting to stop what has begun.

No, instead Gabriel has assisted in returning some of what he lost through his brothers pride and anger. Gabriel has offered to protect Sam from Lucifer. He will not fight. Eyes stuck, watching his brother pick at the dirt covering his stained hands, he will not fight, but he will do what he can to stop what has been started.

The silence has stretched out again but what he should say? Should he leave Gabriel here, alone? Alone to regain his composure? What would Dean prefer? Dean only ever asks that he stop staring. Which he is guilty of doing again, glancing away, turning his gaze back to the sky, squinting out at the blue, still so bright and clear.

“It’s always that way,” His brother’s voice cracks as he starts to speak again. Explaining. Answering one of his unvoiced questions. “It’s a test.”

Sliding his eyes back and Gabriel is looking up again, watching him. Voice husky, low.

“I couldn’t...couldn’t stop myself from kneeling, waiting for him to pull the trigger.” Glancing away and swallowing. “It’s a compulsion.” Eyes back and holding his again. “I couldn’t stop...and he...” Words cutting out. “Could you feel it?” Awe creeping into his voice.

Nodding slowly, silently. He could. Could feel it as it began to swell, soft and strong and steady, then break over him. Companionship, love, unending strength and compassion. Strength so different from when Gabriel shares his grace.

Gabriel’s eyes slide shut, breathing deeply.

“I always thought it was him,” Eyes blinking open. “Before. It always felt like him. Like his presence. Flowing through them, filling them up.” Swallowing hard. “If the owners were worthy enough.”

He can’t help the sudden flash of memory. Their Father. His presence. That was their Father’s presence?

“For a second...” And Gabriel breaks away from his gaze, eyes sliding to the floor. “For a second it was like every other time. Like he was there again.” So soft. Followed by a disparaging snort.

Every muscle freezing even as Gabriel turns his whole face away, stares out over more red earth and blue sky. Ignoring him as his heart starts to race. Hope crashing in. Is it possible? Was their Father there, within Bobby? Could he...He has faith that Raphael is wrong. Faith their Father is alive. Hasn’t abandoned them. He has faith. Faith and this is proof. He has proof, something tangible, he was there, he saw, he felt...

“Cas no.” Gabriel is gazing up again, voice low, eyes pained. “It wasn’t him. He wasn’t there. It’s just...it’s just the relic. I was wrong...when I thought...I was wrong about before, all the other times.” Flash of anger, hurt. “Part of him is in it, it’s just an echo, it’s not him, it never really was.” Pain, so much pain.

But...that can’t be it. His brother has lost his faith. Doesn’t believe, no one believes anymore. But he does, he has faith. Their Father isn’t dead, he’s still here. He felt the strength, the absolute certainty. He saw Bobby, the way his eyes began to glow. A glow that only comes from divine power.

He opens his mouth to speak, to protest, but Gabriel cuts him off.

“Cas please,” Voice cracking. “Don’t...I know Dad,” his voice cuts out and he has to swallow. “That wasn’t him.”

And his brother looks so tired. Tired enough for him to relent, gaze out onto red earth and sparse trees. A distant horizon filled with more multihued rocks. Gabriel’s voice fills with so much pain every time he repeats that their Father is gone, dead. So much pain and he doesn’t want to cause him more. Will try not to. But he won’t stop searching. Their father is out there, somewhere, and he will find him.

***

When they return, an entirely new set of documents are strewn across the kitchen table and Sam is reading from the laptop in front of him. Bobby and Dean are clustered around the table and flicking through the documents and books they’ve amassed in the short time they’ve been gone.

“...was explaining to the NC that my own rifle had jammed. That no matter how many times we stripped it down and put it back together, nothing worked. That was when the Sergeant handed me his rifle. He was injured and heading back to the aid station. He said I’d need it more than he would.

“The next day we took Foy. I should have died at least five times but every time something happened. A mortar went off that threw me to the ground, rounds flew over my head. One German soldier ran out of ammunition and I fired at him from an impossible distance. I should have missed. I was never the best shot with a rifle but I hit him....” Sam’s voice trails off, skipping over something or another. “It says here Private Davis searched for the Sergeant after the war but never found him.”

“Another angel?” Dean’s suggesting.

“They lost a lot of men during the war boys, it might not mean anything at all.” Bobby’s interjecting.

“But he remembers his rank, his company badges, even his name tag. Tyree. He should have been able to find some record of him from that. Even if it was just a name in a MIA or KIA record.”

Silence.

Sam’s the first to notice their return, eyes locking on Gabriel and taking in his slightly rumpled form, hands still stained with red. Sam opens his mouth then closes it. Dean’s not nearly as tactful.

“Care to explain what they hell was going on earlier?”

He continues to watch on in silence, to watch as Sam’s eyes swing round to stare at his brother, reproach clear in his eyes. He doesn’t like Dean badgering Gabriel, that much is clear. But why? Why does Sam care so much if Gabriel is unwell? Dean doesn’t seem to have noticed, or simply doesn’t care. As much as it pains him to admit it, Dean probably doesn’t care.

As much as he’d like Dean to accept his brother, it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen anytime soon. He understands what Gabriel has done, knows exactly what he did to Sam and Dean. He cannot agree with it, cannot condone it, and yet Gabriel is his brother. He won’t defend his actions, but Gabriel is the only family he has left, if he turns away because of what he did, then he will have lost everyone. Everyone who understands what it is to be here, alone, away from home, amongst humans who do not and cannot fathom what he is.

Gabriel isn’t even trying to hide his dislike for Dean, animosity clear in his eyes.

“With such a sweet request how could I possibly deny you.” Tone sharp underneath the mocking.

He wants to step in, stop the argument that will likely happen and yet, he doesn’t. Some part of him wishes for the argument to happen. Dean’s attitude is unrelenting and insulting, despite the fact Gabriel has stopped trying to hurt him. Has healed him and kept him safe. But Dean is ungrateful for his help. Doesn’t even seem grateful for what Gabriel did for his brother. If it weren’t for Gabriel, Sam’s soul would have slipped away and Lucifer would have only needed to track down his comatose body to take control.

Dean is sorry for the mistakes he’s made, he believes that, believes he’s trying hard not to make things worse between himself and Sam, but at the same time he’s continuously antagonising Gabriel.

Some of his disapproval must show, something must give him away because Gabriel is suddenly staring at him, mildly shocked. Did his brother think he approved of Dean’s behaviour? Does he really trust his brother so much? Trust him to hold his temper and not harm Dean? Would Gabriel hurt Dean again if he didn’t intervene?

“Did you want this back?” Bobby finally cuts through the silence as Gabriel blinks at him, expression sliding from surprised to thoughtful, before his lips twist in quiet amusement.

He’s holding the rifle in his lap, fingers still drifting over the sleek wood.

“It’s yours.” Gabriel shakes his head, eyes slipping away, shifting slightly, uncomfortable.

Sam’s eyes are narrowing, Dean doesn’t seem to have noticed but Sam has. Sam who’s glancing his way, meeting his eyes in concern. He can only blink. It’s not his place to explain. If Gabriel wishes Sam to know more then he will tell Sam himself. He won’t interfere. Gabriel deserves his privacy.

“Because I’m the rightful owner?” Bobby’s tone politely disbelieving.

“Something like that.” And he can tell that Gabriel is already regretting telling them even that little piece of information.

“Was Private Davis also a rightful owner?” Pushing for an explanation Gabriel seems reluctant to give. A reluctance he’s wary of. He’s hiding something, something he hopes isn’t going to hurt Bobby.

Bobby who is asking questions that aren’t going to upset his brother. It’s a strange revelation, that he doesn’t want to see him upset again. Never wants to see him so upset again. He doesn’t trust him completely, they cannot risk trusting him completely, but Gabriel is the only family he has left. Everyone else has...blossoming ache, the others have proven that they are happy to hunt him, hurt him, kill him, if they get the chance. He’s truly an outcast and can never go home.

“Probably.” A shrug. “The museum thing said he called it his Lucky Gun. That it always hit whatever he shot at and he went from Foy to an Eagles Nest without getting injured.”

“Is that normal?” Sam’s asking. “Will Bobby be protected now?”

“I don’t know.” Attempting a carefree shrug. “Maybe.”

There’s something else behind that, something he’s not saying. But what isn’t he saying? Is it something they need to know? Something he should ask him about later?

“So don’t count on it.” Dean sneers.

Gabriel finally rolls his eyes.

“As fun as this interrogation is, I think I’m done.” And he snaps his fingers before they can protest, but he doesn’t go far.

Sounds of a TV filter from the room Sam has been sleeping in.

Sam glances at him like he wants to ask something, concern still obvious, but before he opens his mouth he darts a quick glance at Dean and sighs softly, choosing to stay silent. But his eyes drift back to meet his again, request clear, he wants to talk to him later. Ask his questions later. He’s not sure if he should discuss anything with Sam. Unsure if there is anything he can say without betraying his brothers confidence, so he looks away and watches at Sam flinches. Hurt then anger suffusing his face.

He’s hurt Sam’s feelings. He understands that much, but what else can he do? What other course of action does he have?

“So did he give you an explanation?” Dean wants to know.

He can feel the glare as his eyes narrow. Dean expects him to explain everything, to answer all his questions simply because he is too impatient and rude to ask Gabriel politely.

“Perhaps if you were more polite he would answer your questions.”

Dean’s jaw clenches, teeth grinding as he continues to glare. After a moment though he looks away, guilt flashing across his face.

“Did he explain what happened?” Sam asks quietly.

He spares Sam a short glance before letting his eyes drift to Bobby and the rifle. He can still feel the amulet radiating soft heat inside his pocket. It’s no more or less than it was before Bobby took hold of the relic. Just a constant reminder. It never goes completely cold now. Now that he carries the dagger with him. The heat increased when they retrieved the gun from the museum and hasn’t dissipated. Only a slight increase, just enough for him to know that the rifle was what Gabriel claimed it to be.

Now it lays across Bobby’s lap. Should he tell them that Gabriel was compelled to put himself in harms way? Should he tell them that Bobby was filled with God’s presence?

His indecision must show because Dean’s face falls into disbelief, then slams into cold anger.

“He told you not to tell us.” And he sounds so certain. So sure of himself.

“No.”

“Then what aren’t you telling us.” Voice still hard. “What the hell is going on?”

He has to choose. Choose to tell Dean everything he knows or select the things he thinks Dean should know and hope he doesn’t leave anything important out. And Gabriel is either trusting him to keep his secrets or expects him to say nothing. Or perhaps he doesn’t care what he tells them at all.

Three sets of eyes continue to stare and Dean’s getting impatient. Betrayal and hurt starting to slide across his features. He doesn’t want to hurt Dean. Dean is aggravating and irreverent and impatient. But he’s also the most courageous man he’s ever met and continues to fight no matter what the odds are at winning. He won’t ever give up on the world, on saving it and every person in it. Despite the horrors humans experience, all the pain and suffering, Dean fights to save them all because he believes people have a right to be saved.

His loyalties have been divided in the past but Heaven has proven to be treacherous and Dean has always been the righteous man.

“The relic infused Bobby with God’s presence.”

The stunned silence that follows is only broken by Gabriel reappearing. Stepping close and glaring, eyes softly glowing, radiating hurt and frustration .

“Cas,” Trying for patience. “We talked about this, he’s dead, he wasn’t there.”

Gabriel turns as his gaze slides past him to take in Bobby’s pale face and Sam’s hopeful one. Dean is dumbstruck, eyes locking on his, demanding to know if it’s true, if it’s possible. He believes it is. Has his faith but he knows Dean doesn’t have any. Has never had any faith in his Father. But Dean has faith in him.

“He’s not here, he’s dead.” Gabriel is continuing. Voice stern. “What happened to Bobby was an echo, nothing more, just a piece of him left in the relic.”

But Dean is still staring at him, eyes locked, unshifting. Ignoring Gabriel completely.

“Cas?” His voice soft. “What do you think?”

“I believe I felt his presence.”

Gabriel turns and opens his mouth to argue, but he stops when their eyes meet. The glow dimming as he sighs, eyes dipping for a moment, then rising up again, mouth twisting, but he doesn’t voice another protest.


	26. Exhausted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has questions and they're not exactly the ones Gabriel was expecting.

He looks exhausted, smudges of darkness under eyes that have stopped glowing gold. Gabriel’s been avoiding them all afternoon. Hiding out in Sam’s make-shift bedroom. Reclining back on the pettable leather couch and watching his standard, oversized TV on the wall. It’s hard to believe he’s an Archangel when he’s listless, barely lifting a finger to change the channel via the remote. No clicking his fingers, no absent hand waving or barely pointing the remote in the direction of the television, while it miraculously changes the station anyway.

Gabriel might be exhausted but he’s not the only one. Sam’s pausing in the doorway to look down and wonder where he’s going to sit because Gabriel’s sprawled all over the couch. Jean clad legs stretched out, feet crossed at the ankle. But he needs to sit and soon. Just the trip from the study to here has tired him out. Again. Just a short walk after the long day, now all he wants is his bed. Bed and quiet, to not have to listen to Dean bitching at him. Not that Dean doesn’t have a point. Gabriel is keeping secrets from them, not a big surprise, it’s not like they expected him to just explain everything.

Maybe Dean’s forgotten who he’s dealing with, then again, maybe not. Maybe that’s the problem. Dean hasn’t forgotten anything. Doesn’t have forgive and forget in his personal lexicon. Which reminds him so much of his Dad it’s almost painful.

Gabriel continues to ignore him, or at least pretend to ignore him, as he yawns and shuffles across the room. This overtired exhaustion thing, he’s over it. They need to get back out there, back on the road, hunting. So many people are dying while they just sit here, recovering. Recovery that they both needed, was necessary but so much time wasted. So many more people dead because they weren’t out there saving people. Were sitting around planning the next hunt instead of actually hunting.

By the time he starts to sink down into the couch Gabriel’s legs have moved, slid out of the way, one sliding completely off the leather and over the side, trailing one socked foot across the floor. Trailing stark white against clean beige carpet, clean because he vacuumed it yesterday for Bobby. The smallest token of appreciation and something to do. Something to stop him going insane from all the sitting, researching; frustrating, tiresome waiting to regain strength. The other foot slides up, bent knee resting against the leather back. Just enough space for him to sink into the soft, perfect cushioning without Gabriel’s foot touching his hip.

Gabriel who still isn’t acknowledging his presence. Hasn’t even looked his way, who might simply ignore him and stay here all night. All night, silent groan. His eyes are already sinking shut, closing before he wants them to. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Gabriel, because he does. He knows Gabriel won’t hurt him, soft snort, Gabriel’s the one who’s least likely to hurt him these days. Must be a sign of the Apocalypse. Breath catching slightly. Cursing softly inside his own head. Real funny Sam, real amusing.

Letting his head fall back as he tries to ignore his own stupidity, body already sinking further into the leather. At this rate it’s going to take something major to get him up again, he’s tired, muscles weak and heavy with exhaustion. Heart slipping into a slow rhythm, breath already evening out.

Gabriel shifts slightly and the channel changes again. Obnoxious laugh track replaced with deep funky bass under familiar jazz music. Lips already twitching in amusement, why is he not surprised that Gabriel stopped here? Gabriel doesn’t need new and interesting ways to fuck with people, but apparently he likes to watch people fucking with other people. God, mental groan, he’s probably learning too. But at least he’s moved on from trashy tabloid magazines as a source of ideas. Twisted ideas on how to mess with people, hand out just deserts. At least if he’s using con-man inspiration, there’s less chance of chewed up or torn apart bodies when he’s done.

It’s easy to get lost in the background noise, sink further into the couch even if he is sitting upright, not like he hasn’t fallen asleep in the Impala that way. Falling asleep sitting upright is almost as common as falling asleep laying down these days. And the couch is soft and warm and...moving? Forcing his eyes open, mere slits to see that Gabriel has turned the overhead lights off. The remaining illumination is filtering through the room from the TV and he’s turned the sound off. Plunging the room into silence as well. Gabriel is sitting under the window in a new armchair when his eyes slide closed. Armchair that’s a perfect match for the oversized couch he created.

It takes a moment or two to realise he can lay down now, lay down and slide into blissful sleep. Except for the fact Gabriel is sitting less than three feet away. Cracking his eyes open again to notice the angel’s just staring at a silent television. Staring but not watching, eyes barely shifting, hardly a flicker. Hazel dull and almost lifeless.

“Gabriel?”

Word out of his mouth without thinking, sitting up straighter, leaning forward slightly, limp hands sliding over his thighs. He’s tired, so tired and yet moving without stopping to consider what he’s doing, what he’s asking. Or maybe that’s why he can move without thought. Ask...What is he asking?

Gabriel’s eyes slide across to stare at him before sliding away again. Barely a flicker acknowledging that Sam’s shifted closer, moved towards him slightly, spoke his name. The angel’s eyelashes slide closed a moment, hiding dipped hazel, then slowly open again. He looks so tired, like he needs to rest, but does he even sleep? Cas doesn’t sleep so it’s unlikely an Archangel would, and yet he looks like he needs to. Looks like he’s mere seconds away from closing his eyes, drifting off into deep, exhausted sleep.

“Are you okay?” He can’t help the question. Gabriel is, he’s helping, has helped.

Dean would...Does he really care what Dean would think right now? He’s not here, he’s not going to know, and Gabriel, Gabriel is staring at him, eyes slightly wider, almost shock. Shock and then a blink later twisted amusement.

“Awww Sammy, I’m so touched that you care.” Drawling mockery.

And his teeth are instantly on edge, reminded of Castiel’s deliberate brush off earlier. He’s asking, he’s actually wasting time worrying about the bastard of an Archangel and... He’s worrying about Gabriel. He...shying away from that thought. It’s Gabriel, he’s helped, is helping him. Has saved him, it’s just...just a reflex. Gabriel has been around so much lately. Has helped him a lot lately.

“You look like shit.” Sniping back, only the slightest tremor. It’s perfectly logical, even if it’s disturbing and dangerous and wrong. They can’t trust Gabriel. He can’t trust Gabriel. He just can’t.

Gabriel tortured him for months, fucking months, killed Dean over and over in front of him. Took him away for six whole months, left him dead til he killed Bobby. He was so sure it was the Trickster, so sure and yet it looked just like Bobby, talked like Bobby. Could have been Bobby and he didn’t care. All he cared about was revenge, getting Dean back. Anything to get Dean back. And that was Gabriel. The same asshole who locked him and Dean inside TV Land. Turned him into a damn car! And that’s not including the mechanical kick in the balls he decided to give him.

And yet the angel has saved his life more than once, saved him from Lucifer. But Ruby saved his life too. Saved his life more than a few times. Stopped him drinking when Dean...Hell Hounds ripped him...but in the end Ruby delivered him to Lucifer. And Ruby did a hell of a lot more than keep him grounded every time a twisting, sliding, falling feeling kicked in. A lot more than make sure he had a comfortable place to sleep at Bobby’s. A lot more physical things that meant a hell of a lot less, remembering how his skin crawled the first time he fucked her.

Ruby also didn’t put herself in front of Bobby with a rifle, knowing full well that Bobby couldn’t stand her.

Rifle he still has questions about.

“Could the rifle have hurt you?” Watching Gabriel’s brow furrow in confused shock then moving into amusement.

“I think you have your priorities skewed there kiddo.” Mocking smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Frustration rolling in again.

“Right, because wanting to know if you could have been killed? That’s a skewed priority.”

Gabriel’s amusement fades into something far less trivial, eyes narrowing.

“Depends on what you’re thinking there tiger.” Words, tone flippant but eyes locked on his, watching, waiting, staring. And if he thought Gabriel could read his mind he’d be worried from the intensity of the stare.

“Could it kill you?” And more importantly. “Could Bobby use it to kill Lucifer?”

Demanding, watching as Gabriel’s lips twist into a thin line of something, something he’s not sure about. Not sure why Gabriel’s gone from amused at him asking if he’s alright, to anger? Annoyance? Disappointment? Just from him asking if the rifle can be used to hurt Lucifer?

They need something against Lucifer. Something, some _way_ to defend themselves because they can only avoid him, hide for so long.

Lucifer is sure they’ll meet in a few months. Not that long from now, weeks, months racing by and he has to, needs something to ensure he doesn’t...He won’t. Knows he won’t. But it would be better to have an insurance policy. Something they could use against him. Even if it can’t kill him, anything to keep him at bay, anything is better than nothing. God, he’ll take anything over nothing right now.

“I don’t know.” Voice soft, dropped low and sincere. Eyes, line of his mouth softer, apologetic.

Tearing his eyes away to stare at the door, closed door, anything but meet Gabriel’s eyes. Genuine eyes, fuck! And he believes him, trusts that he’s telling the truth. Gabriel doesn’t know if it could. And the only way they could test it, know for sure, daring a glance back...and he can’t do it. Won’t do it. Could...Dean would, but he can’t. Fuck. They need Gabriel, he needs Gabriel. Cas could do the sigil, sigil which needs redoing, but...Lucifer would find him sooner. Sooner and they have no fucking plan for when that happens. Not _if_, definitely _when_. Rubbing fingers into dry, grainy eyes.

They’re not prepared, not even close to it. They’re just running, hiding, hoping. Which is only going to last so long. They have to think of something, come up with a plan. He can’t face Lucifer again without some...and suddenly something occurs to him. The sigil, the blood sigil, Cas did the first one and it lasted a few days, then Gabriel did it and it lasted just over a week, stopped working this morning, catching glimpses of that washed out, horribly familiar room, shadowy figure waiting. Biding his time and now...now he has to...Heart starting to race.

He’s not a coward. He’s faced monsters, angels, demons, vengeful spirits but Lucifer... it’s _**Lucifer**_ and last time they met he almost cut out his _soul_.

_...holding onto the window frame, looking back into the room and staring right up into Lucifer’s face. _

_Lucifer who’s suddenly so much closer, too close. Standing just on the other side of the window now. Standing so close, too close and looking triumphant..._

Before falling, twisting, turning, darkness, ice cold... Hazel eyes, golden, molten, worried, warm. Breath catching. Breathe, just breathe.

Gabriel watching him in silence, eyes hazel, just hazel. No longer glowing, no longer warm and molten, liquid light.

Swallowing hard, jerking his eyes away. Gabriel knows, soft shaky snort, Gabriel’s seen. Knows exactly how much this scares him. Dean, Dean can never know. Dean with his guilt, Dean who can’t help him, who’s incapable of helping with this. He can’t do anything to help. Can only sit and wait and watch. And hope, if he still hopes, if he’s not just sitting back; watching and waiting for the inevitable to happen.

“You’re staying?” Hoarse, heart still abnormally fast but no longer racing.

Because Gabriel is still here, he hasn’t left and that has to mean something. If he’s not doing the blood sigil tonight, he doesn’t have any other reason to stay, he has to be staying for him, to watch. Waiting to see what will happen now that Lucifer can find him again.

He can do this, concentrating on breathing even, watching Gabriel watch him. It’s not like, he’s not going to say yes. Not going to say yes and not going to climb out anymore damn windows. Not going to give Lucifer another opportunity to get close. Just going to walk away, find the damn door and walk away. Get out as fast as possible and run.

Hazel eyes hold his as Gabriel silently nods. Doesn’t mock or snipe or tell him he’s got nothing to worry about. It’s a lie. Lucifer will be waiting for him. Waiting and quite possibly pissed. He’s been hiding for almost two weeks. Freezing in realisation...it’s been longer. Eyes finding Gabriel’s again, holding on. Gabriel was hiding him for longer before that. Hiding him, keeping him safe. Fuck. Pulse thudding in his throat. Swallowing around it to nod back at the angel, acknowledge what he’s doing. What he’s already done.

And with Gabriel here he won’t have the nightmares. Won’t have to fight once he escapes from Lucifer. It’s stupid, but he just, he won’t. Doesn’t have them when the angel is here. Can’t seem to stop having them when he’s not. Even knowing that’s he’s doing it to himself. Creating the monsters, punishing himself. They’re not as bad as they were before. Not as vicious or brutal but they’re still there. They still happen. Still leave him shaking, sweaty and wild eyed in the morning. The guilt still gnawing at him, he started this, it was him, his fault. He believed Ruby, gave in to her plan, drank demon blood and it’s lead to this. The apocalypse.

He started the Apocalypse. Brought on the Four Horseman. He’s damned the entire world, maybe even Heaven because he was weak. Thought he knew better than Dean. Than everyone. He didn’t listen and...

“Sam.” One word drifting across the semi-darkness. “I swear I’ll smite you if you don’t stop.” And he sounds quietly serious, all amused joking gone.

“How...?” Because he can’t, he can’t read his thoughts, they can’t, the Enochian sigils, Cas made sure of it, he...

“You’re kidding right?” A long missed eye roll, head almost shaking before he settles on a quirked eyebrow. “You’re tortured face is even more obvious than Cas’ clueless one.” Then serious, slightly bitter. “And you asked if I was staying.” Quick flash of emotion too fast to read.

“I...” He doesn’t want Gabriel to be the one to stop the nightmares, doesn’t want to want him to stay, need him to stay, need him to be here to know that he can...that he won’t do anything stupid. That he won’t say yes. But he does. He does and he can’t seem to stop himself.

“Just go to sleep.” No hint of exasperation, eyes level, no trace of mockery.

He can’t help the huff of laughter.

“Right, just go to sleep now that I know a pissed Lucifer is ready and waiting for me. I’ll get right on that.”

That gets him another eye roll.

“I will knock you out.” But he’s nowhere near as serious this time, amusement leaking through.

“Or you could tell me why you felt the need to kneel in front of Bobby when he grabbed the rifle?”

Trying to distract him, anything but fall asleep. He can, he will, but later. Not now. Later when the idea of a pissed Lucifer isn’t so fresh and painfully frightening, making him feel so weak, powerless, pathetic.

And the amusement evaporates, eyes sliding away.

“Or why you collapsed and still look like crap?” Pushing for answers.

Gabriel’s fingers actually twitch, to click his fingers? To leave? And why didn’t he just leave earlier when he argued with Cas? Argument which wasn’t quite an argument, as though neither of them were willing to push the other.

He just, he doesn’t know what to think. Doesn’t know what he thinks about what happened in Bobby’s study with the rifle. God? An echo? An echo of God. Even an echo, it’s more than he’s ever seen. More than anyone has ever seen. Bobby was filled with the presence of God? Bobby who’s memories are hazy and almost as disturbing as his memories of being possessed by demons. Which doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence in God. Even if Bobby was quick to point out he felt safe, not in control but warm and secure, at the time. He hadn’t felt concerned about not being in control at all. Had remembered a sense of it being right, even if part of him was aware of how very ‘not right’ it was.

And Dean...

“Dean doesn’t even remember stripping...” Because he asked and Dean doesn’t, didn’t hear a thing. Not Gabriel making that noise or how the rifle came apart in his hands. One moment his fingers were reaching for it, the next Sam was pushing it to the table top.

The archangel’s eyes flicker like weak firelight. Still fixed on the door and completely still, not as inhumanely still as he was when Dean stripped the rifle, but it’s hard to tell if he’s breathing. He should stop, stop pushing, stop asking but he needs to know. Did the rifle do something to Dean?

“Can relics hurt people who aren’t their rightful owner?”

Gabriel’s relief is almost imperceptible, only evident in the slow blink, lashes covering flickering gold. The slight movement of his chest as he breathes in, then softly out.

“No.” One word, nothing else and he hasn’t focused on him again, is quietly reaching for the TV remote and turning the sound back on. Soft but still a clear and present barrier, a hint, maybe even a warning. Gabriel doesn’t want to talk about this. Looks almost...vulnerable. A word he’d never thought he’d use for Gabriel. But he does, he looks vulnerable.

Eyes carefully avoiding his, even if they are still flickering, light dimming down now to the merest hint of gold filtering through hazel. Shoulders still tense, body still. Gabriel is never still. Always eating candy, tapping his feet, clicking his fingers, constant motion but now he’s still. Contained. Weak? Smudges of grey still shadowing his averted eyes. Eyes which won’t meet his and he should ask, there are so many more questions but he can’t, doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to push him further. He doubts Gabriel would hurt him, doubts he’d even leave but...he doesn’t want to ask any more questions tonight.


End file.
